When Felix came back balancing a plate of lamb chops, only Lydia was there.
“Uh… where’s Violet?” he asked, looking around.
Lydia shrugged casually. “No idea.”
Something about the party suddenly felt off—there were fewer people outside than before, and the music had softened to a low hum. Felix frowned, handing Lydia the plate. “Here, take this for a sec—”
She pushed it right back into his hands. “How am I supposed to eat if you’re not holding it? I’ve got a glass in my hand.”
He sighed, giving up. “Fine. Let’s sit over there, then.”
As they moved toward the tables, Lydia’s gaze flicked upward. One of the villa’s second-floor windows glowed faintly in the dark. The corner of her mouth curled. Whatever she saw—or thought she saw—seemed to lighten her mood. She took a bite of lamb, the
