//CLARA//
The doorbell rang at precisely seven o'clock, and I felt the shift in the house's bones.
Adelaide Chase stepped out of her carriage like she owned the street. Dove gray silk, not a wrinkle in sight. She moved toward the door like she had never once questioned whether she belonged.
I turned from the window and smoothed my midnight skirts.
Okay. Let's make the night interesting.
The dining room was a stage. Adelaide sat to Casimir's right. Aunt Cornelia took his left, close enough to whisper poison. I sat across from Adelaide, where both of them could watch me and neither could escape.
The candles flickered between us, casting everything in warm gold.
"Miss Thorne." Adelaide's voice was soft and polished, trained in a dozen finishing schools until every rough edge had been sanded away. "I have heard so much about you."
"All good things, I hope." I smiled with my teeth.
