Blackwood Estate – Late Evening
The halls were finally quiet.
Most of the house had retreated into restless sleep, the kind that didn’t heal but at least silenced the noise for a few hours.
Ivy had been tucked into the master guest suite—not alone, but with Rosa gently brushing through her hair with motherly care until she dozed off. She still hadn’t spoken. But her breaths had evened.
Downstairs, the scent of burning wood and ash from the old fireplace clung to the air.
Richard stood with his hand pressed against the marble counter in the kitchen, eyes unfocused, when Rosa padded in behind him barefoot, arms folded into the shawl she wore like armor.
“You’re still awake,” she said softly, in that thick, accent that had begun to feel oddly grounding to him.
Richard turned. His eyes were bloodshot. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“She’s safe now,” Rosa said.
“I know.”
But that wasn’t what kept him awake, and they both knew it.
He gestured to the stool at the island. “Please, sit. I owe you… more t
