[Third Person].
A thick, suffocating silence fell in the room. Meredith turned away at last and sank onto the couch, rubbing her temples. A dull headache had settled behind her eyes.
Draven watched her for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh—relieved that her emotions were no longer spiralling.
Then, he turned back to Xamira with a steady but unyielding gaze. "How long," he asked evenly, "did you plan to keep all of this a secret?"
Xamira's shoulders slumped. "As long as possible. I didn't think you would accept me if you ever learnt what I was."
Meredith let out a cold breath and turned sharply toward her. "Then tell us this," she said. "Now that you've been exposed, how did your first nanny die?"
The room went still. Xamira's fingers tightened in the sheets as seconds stretched. Then her composure finally broke.
"She… died because of me," Xamira whispered.
Draven's eyes darkened.
