The sun had not risen fully when the Wright mansion's dining table filled.
Morning light bled faintly through tall windows, pale and unfinished, stretching across untouched plates and cups that had already gone cold.
Every member of the household who was present sat there, gathered out of disturbance.
"This is not the first time she has done this," Vivienne said, her voice measured as she placed a hand over her husband's. His jaw was tight, but he said nothing.
She turned her head to the old woman standing across from her. "I don't understand why you're making such a fuss this early, Granny."
As they conversed, Arabella had her eyes fixed on her phone, her thumb hovering above the screen before she tapped it and pressed it to her ear.
It rang again and again until it cut off.
A deep frown curved between her brows. She lowered her phone and placed it on the table.
The screen flickered before dimming, revealing a call log filled with one name repeated over and over.
Angel.
