Maeve
I hadn’t been prepared for this. None of it.
I sat in my bed with my knees pressed against my chest, watching the light from the adjacent room, Aaron’s room, spill into mine.
I hadn’t curled up with a frilly romance novel like usual. I had raged, attempting to push the heavy wardrobe against the shared door, unsuccessfully of course, and surrendered to turning off all the lights and slipping into bed, silent as a mouse.
And then I watched, sometimes holding my breath as an occasional silent shadow broke through the light visible beneath the door. He had crossed the room several times, the scraping sound of a dresser drawer being opened or the thump of a door closing the only sounds in what felt like the entire castle.
Gemma tried to explain the reasoning behind removing the lock from the door. Horace had thought it would allow for privacy, less stress, and easier access for higher levels of success.