Chapter 3
The pale gray light of dawn did little to warm the guest room. Julian woke with a stiff neck, rubbing his right shoulder as he stood up from the punishing angles of the wingback chair. Across the room, the bed was still perfectly made; Maya had eventually dragged a heavy wool throw from the cedar chest and curled up on the chaise lounge near the wardrobe. She was already awake, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her hair tangled around her face.
"Morning," she croaked, her voice thick with sleep. "Your posture looks like a question mark."
"Thank you for the medical assessment," Julian muttered, smoothing down his beige trousers and straightening his collar. "We need to go downstairs before Helen sends the housekeeper to check if we're breathing in sync."
"God forbid we breathe out of rhythm," Maya said, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. She smoothed down her shorts and walked toward the bathroom door. "Give me ten minutes to look like the devoted, happy girlfriend your mother expects, or I swear I'll walk out the front door right now."
Twenty minutes later, they descended the grand staircase together, moving with a practiced, casual synchronization that belied the tension humming between them. Helen Vance was already seated at the head of the formal dining table, her dark hair impeccably styled, a strand of pearls resting against her high-necked cream blouse. She looked up as they entered, her sharp eyes scanning them for any sign of discord.
"Good morning, children," Helen said, pouring black coffee from a silver pot. Her movements were precise, devoid of haste. "I trust the room was comfortable? It was my grandmother's suite, you know. Very auspicious for young couples starting out."
"It was lovely, Mother," Julian said, pulling out a chair for Maya before taking his own seat. He kept his expression neutral, fixed in that careful middle ground that gave nothing away. "Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice."
"Family is family, Julian," Helen replied, handing a delicate porcelain cup across the table. Her gaze lingered on Maya for a fraction of a second too long. "And Maya looks well rested. Clear skin is a sign of a settled mind. Isn't that right, dear?"
Maya offered a small, rehearsed smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I sleep very soundly when I'm secure in my arrangements, Mrs. Vance."
May you like
Julian bit the inside of his cheek, tasting iron. The game had already begun, and they were playing without a rulebook.
***
