Franz returned home in the late afternoon, the summer light slanting through the windows. He'd finished filming hours ago but hadn't changed out of the costume that belonged to Noah Hart's character, not to him. He had forty minutes before he needed to leave for Rochefort Group. Forty minutes to check on Arianne, to see the twins, to remind himself that the world outside this estate was not the only world that mattered.
He found them in the sitting room.
The scene was so quietly domestic that he stopped in the doorway without announcing himself. Arianne was on the couch, a book open on her lap, her posture relaxed in a way it rarely was outside these walls. She was wearing a loose sweater, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, the hem falling past her hips. The small curve of her belly was visible beneath the fabric now, a gentle swell that she no longer tried to hide.
