LAURA ROBINSON POV
I have never believed emotions should lead. They are useful tools, nothing more. Levers to be pulled, expressions to be deployed when necessary. But to allow them to dictate decisions? That is how legacies crumble.
And I did not build the Robinson name by allowing cracks. The drive away from the estate is silent, save for the hum of the engine and the rhythmic tapping of my fingers against my knee. I do not turn on the radio. I do not need distraction, my thoughts are sharp enough.
Lavender Brooks, the girl’s name sits uncomfortably in my mind, like a stain I cannot immediately scrub away. She was smaller than I expected, fragile-looking. The kind of woman people mistake for harmless, which makes her infinitely more dangerous.
Those are the worst kind, I had seen her
