DEBORAH'S POV
The car's engine hummed softly as we glided through the night. My fingers twisted nervously in my lap, the leather seat cool against my back. I glanced at my father beside me, his face impassive in the dim light, then at my cousin, silent and stone-faced. The unfamiliar driver's silhouette loomed ahead, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses despite the late hour.
My gaze drifted to the camera affixed to the front window. A chill ran down my spine. Something about it wasn't right. Something about it wasn't normal.
I leaned towards my father, keeping my voice low. "Did you fire your driver? I don't recognize this one."
He didn't bother turning to me, his posture relaxed as he sank further into his seat. "Since when do you care about my driver, Deborah?"
"Since tonight," I shot back, my heart racing. "What are you trying to achieve with this? It could jeopardize whatever Elijah has planned."
