The next day, at a small café near the city’s art gallery, Blair sat alone in a quiet corner, her fingers wrapped around a cup of chamomile tea that had long gone untouched. Steam still rose thinly from the surface, creating a hazy mist that seemed to mirror the chaos in her mind.
Since last night, her father’s words kept echoing: “You need to be careful, Blair. Getting too close to them will endanger our plans.” And Jonathan—the way he’d been looking at her lately, as if trying to read something hidden behind her smile.
Everything was becoming too complicated. Too fast.
Blair lifted the cup to her lips, but even the chamomile tea that usually calmed her now tasted bland. She set the cup back down with a slow movement, her eyes vacant as she stared out the café window.
“Blair.”
That v
