Julian's POV
"Good evening, Mags," I greeted as I walked into the dining room where she was seated silently eating her meal like she had the whole world in her hands, and in a way she did.
"Whatever you are planning better be good, Julian, or we would have issues." Her voice was cold and detached, a voice I had only heard the day she found me, drenched by the rain at past 2 a.m. in the morning, crying about having nowhere to go. I don't know what held her back, but I was so certain she was going to kill the old man with her bare hands.
"Are you okay, Mags?" I asked immediately, dropping my suitcase on a seat and heading over to where she was seated.
"Don't I look okay to you?"
Something is definitely wrong.
"You are using 'the voice,'" I said honestly, letting my worry show in my voi
