The sleek Bentley came to a stop in front of the Dubois mansion. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what awaited inside. The rain had stopped, but my hair still felt damp against my neck, a reminder of my impulsive kindness earlier.
"We're here, Miss Dubois," the driver announced, opening my door with practiced precision.
I stepped out, smoothing down my slightly wrinkled dress. The front door of the mansion swung open before I could even reach the steps. Mrs. Dubois stood there, her face lighting up when she saw me, then quickly shifting to confusion as she scanned behind me.
"Elara! Where's your husband?" she asked, peering past me toward the car.
"He had an urgent business matter," I explained, remembering Arthur's apologetic expression as he'd received the call just twenty minutes ago.
"He sends his regrets," I added, seeing the disappointment flicker across her face.
