"Give it to me, I'll take care of it. Kindly get me a glass of juice," Maria insisted, taking the freshly laundered clothes from the maid before she could protest.
With practiced ease, she carried the bundle up the stairs and into Mara and Ethan's bedroom. Once inside, she let the clothes slip from her hands onto the bed, but instead of leaving, she walked around.
Her eyes drifted to the other side of the bed, the spot where Ethan slept. A slow, wistful smile curved her lips as she traced invisible patterns on his pillow with her fingertips. She lifted it, bringing it close, inhaling the faint scent that still clung to the fabric.
"Ethan…" she whispered, almost dreamily.
After a moment, she straightened and turned toward the closet. Running her hands through Mara's clothes, she took her time, her fingers brushing over the silks and soft cotton as if weighing each option carefully. Then, her hand stilled, grasping a striking red dress.
