ELARA
“Did he accept the offer?”
I overheard Dave’s deep voice from across the room as he spoke on the phone.
Balancing a tray of coffee in my hands, I carefully set it down on the dining table before taking a seat. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the faint scent of old books and polished wood that always lingered in the house.
Dave stood near the massive portrait hanging on the wall—a striking image of a single drop of blood. It was an odd choice for decor, but I had long stopped questioning his tastes.
As he continued his conversation, he walked over to me, his movements slow. Without breaking his focus, he placed a warm hand on my shoulder, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles.
“He’s definitely going to keep an eye on you, maybe even have you follo
