Gérard stood alone in the garden when a familiar prickle ran down his spine the unmistakable sensation of being watched.
He let out a quiet sigh.
"You can come out," he said calmly. "I can sense you."
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then, slowly, a small figure stepped out from the shadows.
Eugénie.
Charlotte's younger sister.
She couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, yet the way she stood there stiff, composed made it seem as though she were preparing for something far more serious.
"U-um… sir," she began, her voice oddly formal, almost as if she were addressing a superior. "I need to speak with you."
The way she held herself tense, cautious, almost afraid made it clear she saw him as something intimidating. Perhaps even dangerous.
"Have a seat," Gérard said, his tone soft, softer than anyone else would ever hear from him, except Charlotte.
He tilted his head slightly, gesturing to the bench beside him.
