(Julian's POV)
Rain soaked through my suit before I reached the street. Camera flashes still went off behind the estate gates.
Mia cursed me once more, pulled off the fake pregnancy belly, and left in a taxi. I stood under a traffic light with blood drying along the scratches on my face.
At the red light, the study after midnight came back to me.
A low-wattage lamp stayed on in the study whenever I worked late. When stress gave me a fever, soup appeared beside the bed. Each morning, my shirts were pressed and the cuffs were ready.
No note came with any of it. I accepted the lamp, the soup, and the shirts without once asking how they got there.
Evelyn had done all of it.
I called them basic duties. Once, I complained that the soup needed salt. I could not remember ever thanking her.
