Her voice was a careful whisper, laced with a performative innocence she knew he saw right through. He didn't look up from the book in his hand. Silver at his temples, glasses perched low on his nose, the picture of unshakeable calm.
"I told you to wait in the car, Scarlett." scarlett sage daddy
"Come here, little one."
"You have two choices," he said, voice a low, unhurried baritone. "You can turn around, walk back to the car, and wait five minutes. Or you can stay." Her voice was a careful whisper, laced with
"I know. But it's cold." She tucked a bare foot under her other leg, the silk of her robe whispering against the leather. "And you were taking too long." "I told you to wait in the car, Scarlett
"Stay," she breathed, the word barely audible.
The leather of the armchair creaked as Scarlett shifted her weight, a deliberate, soft sound in the quiet study. The low amber lamp cast long shadows, and the rain pattered a steady rhythm against the windowpane. She wasn't supposed to be in here.