HAZEL
The dining room smelled like roasted meat and something sweet I couldn't place. I sat in my usual spot, hands folded in my lap, and watched the servers move between chairs with practiced efficiency. The table stretched long enough that conversations felt like they had to travel miles to reach the other end.
Wenzel sat at the head. Always at the head.
His presence changed the entire atmosphere. Everyone sat straighter when he was around. Spoke quieter. Moved more carefully. Even the way people chewed their food seemed calculated, like making too much noise might draw unwanted attention.
I felt different tonight, though. Lighter somehow.
My plan was coming together. Piece by piece. Delta had agreed. Pauline was dead, which complicated things but also simplified them in ways I was still processing. Tomorrow I would go to Silvercreek and get what I needed. Then everything would fall into place exactly as I'd designed it.
