Davina's POV
I pushed up my sleeves and dove into the work.
I attacked the wooden floor with my rag, fighting against the grime that seemed permanently fused to the boards. Calista perched on the bed, making lazy swipes at dust particles with a tattered pillowcase.
"This is revolting," Calista complained, her nose scrunched in disgust. "I swear I'm breathing in corpse particles."
"Then scrub faster so we can finish this nightmare," I shot back, my tone dead flat.
Calista let out an annoyed breath but kept her mouth shut after that. Dotty worked on the window, her movements slow and methodical.
We cleaned in heavy silence, with only the house's ancient creaks and the distant rumble of traffic breaking the quiet.
Then another sound cut through—one that made my gut churn with revulsion.
Rapid bed springs.
Strangled moans.
Crude laughter.
Calista's mouth twisted into a knowing smirk. "Christ, they jumped right into it, didn't they?"
I gritted my teeth and scrubbed harder.
