REMI'S POV
Eleanor's estate on a Sunday morning had a different quality than it did on a weekday evening. Less formal — the same grandeur, but worn more loosely, like a suit jacket left open. The garden was visible from the drive, late-season roses still holding their color, and there was a dog I hadn't seen on the first visit, an elderly greyhound who observed my arrival from a stone step with the polite indifference of someone who had seen many arrivals and had opinions about none of them.
Marcus had driven me. Dax had offered — I'd said no, wanting the drive alone. Marcus, to his credit, had the quality of someone who understood when silence was the correct company and provided it without needing to be asked.
Eleanor was in the smaller sitting room off the garden — not the formal dra
