*Evelyn*
Harriet was teaching me how to make Tiramisu while I waited on Slater to return home.
I knew it was well past what time the eternally busy woman usually went to bed. It was after midnight. But when I’d come downstairs around ten anxious and worried about Slater, she’d simply started pulling ingredients out of the fridge and chattering away about how to make the desert.
I whisked together the ingredients in the bowl, staring blankly at the cabinets in the ornate kitchen. A few days ago, I didn’t worry when Slater came home in the middle of the night after ‘work’ with guns and knives strapped to his body. Our relationship had been continuously changing since I’d been here, though, and my mind kept thinking of scenarios where he’d use those weapons and the danger he would be in
