A day before, in a private room at Obsidian
The room was curated for conversations people were never meant to overhear.
Eleanor Ashford sat elegantly and composed. But her patience was thinning as Aveline hadn't mentioned the matter in the car and waited until now.
She glanced at Aveline, who sat opposite her, effortlessly composed in a cream coat, fingers curled around a delicate porcelain cup as if she were simply relaxing.
Aveline met Eleanor's eyes, calmly setting the cup down. Her voice was soft. Too soft. "Damien was poisoning me."
Eleanor stilled. The world tilted for half a second. She blinked once. Twice. "Aveline, that's..."
"I'm not speculating." Her tone sliced through doubt. "I was hospitalized. Housekeeper Walter is behind bars. He's Damien's scapegoat."
When Aveline completed her words, the silence between them felt like it was holding its breath.
Eleanor studied Aveline carefully. There was no tremble in Aveline's voice, and her eyes were cold with truth.
