The study door opened with a soft groan, and Abigail stepped inside.
The room smelled of dust and paper, and maids moved quietly across the room, folding documents into boxes, wrapping frames, stacking piles of books along the wall. The sharp sound of tape tearing through cardboard cut through the silence as each rip made her chest ache. It was as if every piece of him...his presence, his life, was being carefully erased and sealed away.
Her steps faltered. She wanted to tell them to stop, to leave it as it was, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she stood frozen until Thomas cleared his throat softly and gestured with one hand.
“Leave us,” he instructed.
The maids hesitated only a second before bowing their heads and slipping out, leaving the door to click shut behind them. The sil
