Emily's POV
Sleep had been elusive, fractured by dreams I couldn't quite remember but that left me feeling unsettled.
The house was still quiet as I slipped from my room, padding down the hallway in my sleep pyjamas. I needed cold water. Something to clear my head. Something to ground me in the present instead of the confusing swirl of emotions that Victor Hawthorne seemed to constantly provoke.
The kitchen was dark except for the pre-dawn light shinning through the windows. I was halfway across the foyer when I heard Jenkins's voice, low and measured, coming from the kitchen.
"...don't worry, everything is going as planned."
I paused, my hand resting on the door jamb. The words struck me with a strange chill. Everything is going as planned. It sounded so... weird. For a moment, I was confused, the Jenkins I knew sounded different.
I pushed the thought away. He was Victor's man. He was always planning something. Business, house maintenance, scheduling. It was his job.
