Just as I expected, the entire house started getting overturned early morning by butlers and cleaners alike under Amelia's watchful eye. It started yesterday actually, but it's much worse now. I can't count how many times I've walked past a few guys changing layouts and carrying new furniture and vases with plants into the rooms.
Even now as I'm trying to head over to my room after my gym session so I can take a bath, the path up the stairs keeps getting blocked by the cleaning team scrubbing the already clean white walls.
"You didn't brush that part," Amelia points at nothing in particular, but one of the cleaners attends to the area anyway. "I heard he's allergic to dust. We don't want him getting sick after one visit here so make sure you clean every nook and corner, okay?"
"Yes, Ma'am!"
Desmond is allergic to dust? Yeah, right.
