[Reid Mansion — Kitchen]
The kitchen was alive in a way it hadn't been in years.
Staff moved with purpose, voices low, footsteps careful—as if the house itself had woken up and was watching.
Pauline stood near the center island with her hands loosely folded, observing rather than directing.
She didn't need to raise her voice. Her presence alone shifted the rhythm of the space.
A senior maid—grey-haired, sharp-eyed, someone who had served the family for decades—stood a respectful distance away, waiting.
"Prepare Alexander's room," Pauline said calmly. "And my mother's as well. They will be arriving today."
"Yes, madam," the maid replied immediately, already making a mental list.
She hesitated, then asked carefully, "And should we prepare the master bedroom too?"
Pauline stilled but just for a second.
"The master bedroom?" she repeated softly.
