Ava sat curled slightly into the corner of the living room couch, a book open in her lap but unread. The words blurred together no matter how hard she tried to focus. Her mind kept drifting, back to the way Damian had looked at her that morning, the hesitation in his step before he left, the quiet tension that had settled between them like something unfinished.
She sighed softly and turned the page anyway, more out of habit than interest.
The sound of footsteps drew her attention toward the entrance of the room.
"Mrs cross," Charles said gently as he approached, his hands folded behind his back. "You have a visitor."
Her heart skipped. Instinctively, her first thought was Damian, but Damian wasn't a visitor this was his house and Charles had never announced when Damian was home.
"Oh," she said, sitting up straighter. "Who is it?"
Before Charles could answer, voices came in from the hallway, familiar voices.
