Author's POV
The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the windows of the Holt estate.
Margaret had barely settled into her rest when footsteps thundered through the hallway below. Clara's voice rang out, bright and careless, followed by Marcus's shrieks of laughter as they chased each other through the foyer.
*Like a pack of feral pups,* Margaret thought bitterly, pressing her fingers to her temples.
Ever since Clara had moved in, sleep had become a luxury.
Her room sat directly above the main hall, and the woman seemed to take perverse pleasure in being as loud as possible, at the worst moments.
She breezed through the house like she owned it, barely acknowledging Margaret's existence. No greeting. No deference. Nothing.
It hadn't always been like this. When Clar
