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I made sure I was the one who came through the door.

With breakfast. With something to read. With answers to the questions I chose to answer.

Eventually, she started watching for me.

My gaze drops to the hand resting beside her face. Last night, those fingers closed around my wrist when I moved to get out of bed.

She was half asleep. She probably doesn’t remember.

I do.

I step back and close the door carefully, easing the latch into place before I turn the key.

Downstairs, the kitchen is empty. I told the staff to leave everything ready and stay out until I was finished.

The pastries sit beneath a linen cloth. I lift it, check the almond croissant, and switch on the coffee machine.

Men in this house would hesitate to believe what they’re seeing. I have people who prepare food, carry trays, and anticipate anything I might need.

When I am here, none of them are permitted to take this upstairs.

I set out her empty cup, the sugar bowl, and the small jug of cream.

Two sugars. A little cream. I will add them after I pour her coffee.

I learned the order before I took her. Back then, it was just another detail in a file, something that helped me understand her routine. Which café she visited. How long she stayed. Whether she went alone.

Now I know she wraps both hands around the cup even when the room is warm. She takes her first sip before she looks at the food. If she’s angry with me, she’ll avoid my eyes while she drinks.

She still drinks it.

I place the cup on the silver cart.

I’ve held people in this house before. Men with information I needed. Men who owed me money. Men foolish enough to believe I wouldn’t come for them.

I left their care to others.

With Liv, I notice when she eats less. I know when she’s been awake in the night. Yesterday, she stood beneath the shower long enough that I went to her door and asked whether she was all right.

She told me to leave her alone.

I waited outside until I heard the water stop.

My hand stills on the edge of the cart.

That wasn’t necessary. She wasn’t going anywhere, and there was nothing in the bathroom she could use to hurt herself.

I knew all of that.

I stayed anyway.

My phone vibrates against the marble counter.

I open the message from the guard outside Ari’s room.

Awake. Asked about Olivia again.

I read it, then put the phone in my pocket.