The gate of the Vexxon estate closed behind Eleanor with a soft, final thud. She stood for a moment outside the door, the weight of the day pressing down on her.
How was she even going to begin telling the triplets about Mr. Hans, the captives, the entire twisted operation? A part of her argued it was a matter for the authorities, but a colder, more realistic voice whispered that men like Mr. Hans owned the authorities.
Isn't it still better for the authority to be bought for justice? Beatrice, her wolf, mused internally.
That doesn't even make sense, Eleanor shot back silently, rubbing her temples.
"Good evening, Miss Eleanor," Sir Alfred's calm voice cut through her thoughts. He stood as a pillar of quiet efficiency by the opened door.
"Good evening, Sir Alfred," she replied, offering a tired smile as she got in.
"Might I inquire if your visit with Dr. Chloe proved fruitful? Did she provide the suppressants you sought?"
