The doorbell rang, pulling a groan from Charlotte as she pushed herself up from the floor. She brushed at her clothes out of habit, though there was nothing to remove. The place was spotless gleaming, almost unnaturally so. She had scrubbed every inch until it shone, because anything less than perfect never sat right with her.
She crossed the room and opened the door without bothering to check the peephole, already assuming it was Vittoria.
It wasn't.
Teresa stood there.
"He is not home," Charlotte said immediately, her tone neutral, certain the woman had come looking for him.
"I'm here to talk to you," Teresa replied, stepping inside before Charlotte had even opened the door fully.
Charlotte shut the door slowly, her gaze lingering on her. Talk? About what?
"Let's go to the backyard," Teresa added, her voice dropping as she turned and walked ahead.
Suspicion curled in Charlotte's chest, but she followed anyway.
