I woke before the house did.
The room was still dim, the curtains holding the morning at a careful distance, and for a moment I lay completely still and let the silence settle around me. No penthouse. No Adrian. No silver tray ordered by phone before dawn. Just the particular quiet of Evelyn's house, which breathed differently from every other place I had ever slept, slower and more deliberate, as though the walls themselves understood that rest here was not a luxury but a necessity
.
I dressed quietly and went to Evelyn before the staff had finished laying the breakfast tray.
She was already awake.
Sitting up against her pillows, hair loosely pinned, hands folded in her lap with the patient stillness of someone who had learned not to waste energy on restlessness. She looked better th
