Isabella lay still for a long moment, watching the pale light creep across the ceiling of the east wing bedroom, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The house was already awake. She could sense it in the way the air felt alert, prepared, as though the walls themselves were listening.
Breakfast was served in the glass dining hall overlooking the courtyard. Clara sat at the head of the table, Lydia to her right, and Ethan stood behind Lydia’s chair with his hands folded neatly at his back. Isabella noted that no one had waited for her before beginning.
“You received the calendar notice,” Clara said as Isabella took her seat.
“Yes,” Isabella replied. “I am curious to know why a risk review is necessary when nothing has changed.”
Clara did not look at her. “Nothing visible has changed,” she said. “That does not mean the structure beneath it remains sound.”
Ethan did not meet Isabella’s eyes.