At ten o'clock in the late night, Lucy Ansley's fingers flew across the keyboard, typing code with hardly any pauses.
By the time she finished dealing with the impromptu task, the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen read eleven thirty.
Lucy rubbed her sore shoulders, leaned back wearily in her chair to relax for a moment, and then got up and left the room.
The quiet second-floor corridor was lit by two wall lamps, heightening the tranquility and peace of the night.
As Lucy passed Henry Ronan's master bedroom, she deliberately lightened her steps. Hearing no movement and seeing no light from under the door, she went downstairs without worry.
The man's bedroom was next to hers, very close, just a wall away.
Initially, they agreed that each would take a floor of the duplex villa, but on the day they actually moved in, neither mentioned it, both tacitly and naturally entering their respective rooms.
The lights in the downstairs living room were off.
