Connor
The living room didn't look like a construction site I had expected it to be.
Boxes were stacked in neat lines along the walls, labeled in perfect handwriting. The movers Coleman hired weren't like any movers I'd seen before. They wore gloves. They spoke in quiet voices. They unwrapped things like they were defusing bombs. One of them was hanging a painting in the hallway right now. Another was in the kitchen unpacking our mugs with a spreadsheet on a clipboard.
I was sitting on one of the two sofas that had been brought in, with Edward next to me, and Mr. Davies across from us in the armchair with a leather notebook.
"Mr. Chernyshevsky, Mr. Rennison," Davies said, calm as always. "If we could go through a few housekeeping items."
Edward nodded and immediately reached over and took my hand. Like it was the most natural thing. "Of course, Gareth. Fire away."
"Excellent. First, scent."
I blinked. "Scent?"
