Natasha
I was good at being invisible. Years of practice had perfected the art of moving through rooms unnoticed, of helping without drawing attention, of existing in the spaces between other people's lives.
I was the quiet healer. The helpful sister. The woman no one really looked at twice and it was safer that way.
I had built my entire existence around being useful but unremarkable. I tended the sick, organized events and smoothed over conflicts.
Dimitri relied on me in his absent-minded way, grateful for my assistance but never really seeing me.
Seraphina was kind and appreciative, but I was simply part of the household machinery that kept things running, and that was fine. I preferred it.
Being noticed meant questions. Attention meant scrutiny, and scrutiny meant someone migh
