ELLA
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Aunty Willow said, her tone deceptively calm. “Come with me.”
Curiosity sparked immediately.
I followed her without hesitation as she turned down the corridor leading to her private suite. This wasn’t an invitation she extended lightly. Willow Grant did nothing without intention, and the fact that she hadn’t continued speaking already told me this wasn’t a casual conversation.
Inside her room, the air felt heavier. The curtains were half drawn, muting the morning light, and everything was pristine in that cold, deliberate way that always made me feel like I was stepping into a strategy room rather than a bedroom.
She closed the door behind us.
Then she locked it.
The soft click echoed, sharp and final, and my curiosity tipped into unease.
