Thea dropped her bag with a heavy sigh as she stepped into the Carrington estate's grand foyer. Her blazer, once crisp, now slipped off one shoulder. Three days at Arkos Biotech, and she already felt like she'd aged a year.
So much for easing in.
Three days of tight smiles and careful questions. Nodding through conversations she barely understood. Pretending the pace wasn't short-circuiting her brain. She hadn't seen the 'Mr. Davis' since day one, but his presence lingered; quiet, everywhere.
She freed her hair from its bun, the pins falling into her palm. She massaged the base of her neck as she kicked off her heels and walked across the marble floor.
Mr. Alfred appeared from the corridor, a woven basket in one hand and a folder tucked under his arm. He moved with the kind of practiced ease that made him almost part of the house itself. His white-gloved hand adjusted the folder with surgical precision, as if he were filing memories rather than papers.
"Thea, my dear," he said, warm as ever. A smile lit up his wrinkled face. "You're back. How's the working world treating you?"
She smiled despite her exhaustion. "Good evening, Pa. I survived."
"Only survived?" he teased.
"Barely." She sank onto the nearest couch. "Arkos is… a machine. Cold and efficient. There are departments inside departments. I'm still not entirely sure what half of them actually do."
"I'm quite sure they don't know what half of you do either," he said with a wink.
She laughed, tension softened by his familiar teasing. "They've got me shadowing literally everyone. Clinical trials, regulatory, logistics... name it. People are polite, but I'm always three steps behind. Like joining a marathon after the sound of the gun."
"That's how most beginnings feel, Thea." Mr. Alfred said transferring the basket to his other hand. "But don't mistake the unknown for weakness. You're quick. You'll learn faster than you think."
She nodded. "Thanks. You always know how to untangle me."
He gave her a look he'd used since she wore ribbons and fairy dresses. "You're not alone in this, you know. The family name casts a long shadow, just don't let it weigh you down."
"I'm trying."
He studied her for a moment. "You look tired. You're not skipping meals, I hope."
"Not on purpose," she said, glancing down at her stomach as if it might remind her. "The cafeteria at work serves dinner too late. By then I'm already on the way home. And then, too busy for lunch."
He tutted and began walking again, motioning for her to follow. "I'll have Martha send up something light. And a warm bath wouldn't hurt either. Peppermint oil, perhaps."
"You spoil me."
"I just care," he replied simply. Then his gaze sharpened. "Have you seen your sister today?"
"Seraphina? Not yet. I wanted to catch her tonight. Is she around?"
"She was earlier. I saw her in the sunroom with that event planner. The young man with a bow tie and a laugh that could wake the dead."
Thea laughed. "Mason. That's him."
"They were deep in table arrangements, centerpieces, menu cards. Something about a private event, sure doesn't sound like a fundraiser."
"That's strange," Thea murmured. "She usually says something whenever she's hosting an event."
"Perhaps she meant to and got distracted. You know how she is when she's deep in her own world."
"She's been... distant."
"Indeed, but when has she not been?" Alfred said, his voice lowering just slightly. "She's been wandering more than usual. Out at odd hours. Restless."
"Do you think something's wrong?"
He hesitated. "Your sister doesn't let people in, even when she needs to. But if something's brewing, we'll see it soon enough."
He stopped at the base of the stairs. "Well, if I see her before you do, I'll let her know you're looking."
"Thanks, Alfred. Really."
He inclined his head, then added with a small grin, "Now go. Rest. Let this old house spoil you a bit."
As Thea ascended the stairs, her muscles ached like steel. The estate was silent. The hallway ahead stretched long and cold. The same hallway she raced barefoot as a girl, laughing.
Now, it felt like a corridor between two lives.
The grandfather clock chimed Ten o'clock. Its sound vibrated through the bones of the Carrington estate.
Down in the east wing, one light burned, the study at the very end, where Raymond Carrington stood by the tall arched window, staring into the dark garden.
A knock came.
Once. Twice.
"Come in," he said, not turning.
The door opened with a soft groan, and Mr. Alfred stepped inside. The room was cloaked in shadows, lit only by a desk lamp. Raymond remained facing the garden, his reflection faint in the glass.
"Is it done?" he asked, voice low.
Mr. Alfred nodded, barely audible. "Yes, sir. She's begun."
"And?"
"She's holding up well. The pace is fast, but she's adjusting. There's a quiet strength in her. She won't break."
Raymond turned slowly. The light caught the edge of his cheekbone, outlining a face carved from discipline.
"Good," he said. "The environment will shape her. If she falters, the plan does too."
Alfred stepped forward, and set the folder on the desk. The basket was gone. "She believes this is all natural. Nothing has slipped."
"You've covered all traces?"
"Yes, sir. There's no paper trail linking her to Arkos through you. The HR files are scrubbed. The access logs routed through a front company. If anyone digs, they'd only see what we left."
Raymond let out a small breath. "You've always been efficient, Alfred."
"You taught me well."
Silence stretched between them, heavy with years of secrets neither dared voice aloud.
Raymond moved to the liquor cabinet and poured a drink, amber swirling in crystal. "Do you ever wonder, Alfred... if she'll hate me for it, when she learns the truth?"
"She might," Alfred said. "Or she might understand. All you do, you do for us all. It depends on the version of you she meets at the end."
Raymond gave a quiet, bitter chuckle. "They never understand. Well, for her sake, I hope she does."
He sipped his drink, eyes drawn back to the garden beyond the glass.
Alfred placed the folder on the desk. "There's also news from the labs. It's time to go according to plan"
Raymond didn't flinch. "I'll need a little more time, to ease her into this. "
"As you wish, Sir."
There was a pause, and then Raymond turned fully toward the window again.
"Leave me now, Alfred."
"Good night, sir."
The door whispered shut behind him.
Raymond remained by the window, his fingers curling around the glass. Outside, the garden was shrouded in moonlight and fog, but he watched it as if waiting for something or someone.