I wake to light filtering in through my window and the faint ache behind my eyes… the tell-tale sign I didn't sleep well. My jacket is still hanging crooked from the back of a chair, the cuff dark where the umbrella dripped. I left it there last night when I threw myself into bed after climbing back through the window.
I check the time and hum to myself. I've woken up too late to look responsible, but still early enough to avoid looking suspicious.
The floor is cold when I slide out of bed. I wash my face, tie my hair back again, and pretend the steam in the bathroom isn't making me sentimental. When I return, three phones sit on my vanity: my personal, the family line, and the one Lucius gave me.
I start with the family phone to find twelve notifications: staff schedules, supply numbers, and one terse message from Alessandro's assistant about a ten a.m. check-in. Nothing from Alessandro himself; he doesn't waste texts when a summons will do.
