The next morning, Adrian gathered everyone before him.
The three women were confused—and more than a little worried—when he didn't wait for Annabelle to wake up on her own and instead gently roused her earlier than usual. That alone told them something was different.
Now, he sat across from them, quietly finishing his coffee.
None of them were fooled.
They knew Adrian well enough to recognize that he wasn't savoring the drink. He was buying time. Organizing his thoughts. Preparing himself for a conversation he hadn't quite decided how to begin.
Annabelle returned from the bathroom after washing her face, her hair still slightly damp. She studied him for a moment before speaking, her voice cautious.
"Darling…" she began, then hesitated.
"You're not going anywhere dangerous again, are you?"
Adrian shook his head lightly. "I don't know what kind of image I've built in your eyes lately," he said, "but I'm still a peace-loving person."
