Raisel’s POV

I waited, impatiently, as Mr. Beau and the man at the laptop—Jace, I think his name was—spoke in hushed tones. The name Jace felt familiar, like a half-remembered shadow flitting through my mind, but I couldn’t quite place it. Their conversation lingered in the background as I drifted, restlessly pacing the edges of the estate, the guard trailing me like a silent, watchful shadow. Maybe he was there to guide me, or maybe he was there to keep me from wandering into places I ...