Miss Claire's estate rested in a hush that Wednesday morning, five days after their arrival.
Sunlight filtered through the tall trees lining the grounds, casting long, gentle patterns across manicured lawns still damp with dew.
Guards moved along their patrol routes in organized steps, dark uniforms blending with the shadows of the outer walls as they scanned the perimeter with quiet vigilance.
Inside the main building, maids glided through the hallways with their usual efficiency, adjusting vases of fresh flowers on side tables or smoothing linens on sideboards, their movements soft against the polished floors.
A short distance from the main structure, near the servants' quarters, stood the other gym.
It was not enormous but carried a solid presence, its lines cleaner and more modern than the estate's primary architecture.
Don had noticed the difference immediately upon his first visit—the reinforced frames and specialized equipment spoke to its purpose.
