After breakfast, Mirabella followed Ashley down the long hallway to her room, her feet sinking into the soft rug that lined the polished floor. Hunter had left them minutes ago, telling Mirabella that he would be busy for the rest of the day before disappearing toward his study. She had only nodded, not daring to ask anything. Before he would drag her along with him.
Ashley’s room was on the opposite wing of the house. When the door opened, Mirabella paused for a second, surprised by the sudden brightness inside. It wasn't as bright as yesterday. Unlike Hunter’s heavy, masculine suite, Ashley’s room was airy and full of color. White curtains fluttered by the tall windows, a vase of fresh roses stood by the bed, and stacks of books lay scattered on the desk beside a half-finished painting.
