Third person POV
The Whitmore's estate was quiet that evening, the kind of silence that stretched like silk over the manicured lawns and stone walkways. The pool shimmered beneath the sun, pale blue water catching the last threads of daylight. Evelyn Whitmore sliced through the water with the practiced grace of someone who swam not for exercise, but for control. Every stroke was precise, every turn deliberate. Swimming was her way of keeping her body strong and her thoughts sharper than the people around her.
The estate staff kept their distance. Everyone knew that when Evelyn was in the pool, interruptions were unacceptable. That was an unspoken rule , one that hadn't been broken in years. Which was why the sound of hurried footsteps across the terrace made Evelyn's head break through the water, her eyes narrowing toward the figure approaching.
