Freya sat stiffly on the edge of her bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as Bea settled gracefully into the chair across from her. The woman’s calm demeanor contrasted sharply with Freya’s turbulent emotions. She had a face that mirrored Rion’s in many ways—the same dark eyes, the same sharp features—but where Rion’s presence was overwhelming, Bea’s was warm and disarming.
Freya’s voice trembled as she finally broke the silence. “How do you all know my name? Everything about me?”
It wasn’t the first time she’d asked the question, but unlike others, Bea didn’t brush her off. Instead, she laughed softly, leaning back in the chair with a casual elegance.
“That would be my fault,” Bea admitted, her lips curving into an amused smile. “The moment you arrived, Rion communicated with me.
