Chapter 18: Don't Sugar Coat It

Beatrice's POV.

Everything about this place is luxurious. Art lines every hallway, and each piece is carefully lit so golden pools of light mark the way like lily pads. Windows span most of the back of the house, which backs up to the ocean.

The main living room features one of those modern folding glass doors that brings the outside in, but it's November so it's only cracked open enough to hear the waves rolling against the shore.

The gas fireplace flickers to keep us warm, and I want to curl up right there forever and just hide from...everything.

"Havenwood is an appropriate name for this place," I say.

There is a beat where Gigi says nothing, and I worry if I mistepped. Humans leave more unsaid than witches. I don't always catch what the silences mean.

"I sent the staff home and the firm won't descend until tomorrow," Gigi says eventually.

"The firm?"