Angela waved to Shaun as she stood atop the few flights of stairs before the grand main door, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the afternoon light. Zayden lingered a step behind her, his gaze fixed on Shaun as he waved back and slipped into his carriage. They both heaved a sigh of relief when they saw the carriage roll away from the mansion's imposing gates, its wheels crunching over the gravel path like a whispered promise of solitude.
Angela turned to look at Zayden, who was already staring at her with an intensity that made her heart flutter. She glanced around the main sitting room, searching for any signs of life. No one was in sight.
She hadn't seen her stepmother nor Zara; they may have ventured out—something they had been doing quite often lately—but she didn't mind. In fact, she relished their absence. Her father was probably ensconced in his study or perhaps lost in slumber, oblivious to the world outside.
