The alarm on my phone vibrated against the nightstand at six, a sharp buzz that cut through the heavy silence of the villa. I reached out and silenced it immediately, not wanting the sound to wake Marcus or Eleanor. The room was already filling with light, a pale gray dawn that seeped through the heavy curtains. It was different from the London light; sharper, clearer, even through the fabric. I lay there for a moment, listening to the sounds of the house. It was quiet, but not the quiet of London. There was no traffic hum, no distant sirens. Just the wind in the olive trees outside and the occasional chirp of a bird that sounded unfamiliar to my ears.
I slipped out of bed carefully. Marcus was asleep on his side, facing my side of the bed. His breathing was deep and even. He looked young
