Catherine's POV
The hot water couldn't touch the cold living inside my bones.
I sat on the edge of the velvet bed in the Voss estate's guest room, a cup of tea going cold between my palms. A housekeeper had come. A maid. Even a family physician who'd cleaned and dressed every scrape I'd collected during my escape. Fresh clothes had been folded on the dresser. Toiletries lined the bathroom counter.
No rope. No handcuffs. No blinding interrogation light.
The politeness of it all made my stomach turn in ways that actual torture never could.
Once, I had moved through this estate like I owned it, like I would own it. The guest room had been beneath me then. Now I was the stain they were deciding whether to scrub out or ignore. And yet, after twenty-four hours of running for my life, this g
