The massive Winters Mansion was eerily quiet, save for the soft echo of Margaret Winters’ heels clicking against the polished marble floor as she paced restlessly across the grand living room.
Her hands were tightly clasped around her phone, her brows furrowed in deep thought. A mix of frustration and unease coiled in her stomach, making it impossible to sit still.
She had spent the entire day trying to push away the nagging suspicion that had lodged itself in her mind after that mysterious text message.
But no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn’t leave her alone.
She brought the phone to her ear, sighing as the familiar voice of her closest friend, Eleanor Harrington, filled the silence.
“Margaret, darling, you sound stressed,” Eleanor said, her voice laced with curiosity. “What’s
