//CLARA//
The door was unlocked.
I don't know why that surprised me. It wasn't as if he'd locked it to keep me out. He didn't need to. He knew I was currently a well-trained dog who'd forgotten how to bark. I'd spent three nights standing in that hallway like a gothic tragedy.
But now the Master of the House was gone, and the door was just… an invitation to be pathetic.
I pushed it open.
His study still smelled like him. That infuriating blend of sandalwood, expensive tobacco, and the metallic tang of ink. I stood in the doorway for a long moment, letting the scent settle in my lungs like a poison I was slowly becoming immune to.
I closed my eyes, half-expecting him to pivot in his chair and give me that look that said I was an inconvenience he couldn't quite figure out how to discard.
Then I walked inside.
