Jean sat before her vanity mirror, the makeup brush trembling slightly in her fingers as she applied a soft layer of concealer beneath her eyes. No amount of foundation could hide the tiredness she wore like a second skin.
Last night's nightmare had shaken something loose inside her… something old and buried. It had taken everything in her not to curl up and stay in bed.
But she had a life to maintain. A reputation to uphold. And questions that needed answers.
Pulling her hair into a clean ponytail, she grabbed her bag and headed downstairs, expecting the usual sharp voices of her parents at the breakfast table. But the dining room was empty.
Frowning, she turned to one of the housemaids clearing the table. "Where is everyone?"
The woman paused, respectful as always. "Mr. and Mrs. Adams asked for breakfast in bed today, Miss Jean. And Mr. Alex hasn't returned since last night."
Jean's brow arched slightly. Breakfast in bed? Since when? But she nodded. "Thanks."
