Chapter 12

As darkness fell, staining the windows black, the chirping of crickets became a soft, unobtrusive backdrop. Just as Clifton was turning the final page, a sound broke the quiet. Knock, knock. “My Lady? Are you in there? I’m bringing your dinner.” The woman who entered so briskly, without waiting for a reply, was the maid in charge of Merdi’s meals. Her attitude, breezing in as if it were a friend’s room, was rude beyond measure. Thud. Clifton closed the book and looked up. Their eyes met, and the smug curl of the maid’s lips instantly froze.