Chapter Eight

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The drive from my house had been long, the relentless rain blurring the world outside

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The drive from my house had been long, the relentless rain blurring the world outside. I sat in the front seat beside Nathaniel, who was carefully navigating the slick roads. Behind us, Sophia was fast asleep, her small hands clutching a yellow giraffe toy, drool trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her car seat matched the toy's vibrant hue, only slightly darker, and her coat snugly wrapped around her up to her chin. I settled back into my seat and glanced at Nathaniel, who seemed lost in thought.

"Sorry about my dad," I began, breaking the silence. "He's been a big fan of you since, well, probably since you were born."

Nathaniel turned his head just enough to show he was listening, his focus still on the road. "I figured," he said, his voice calm. "Rewatching last season's games and all."

I nodded, staring out the window at the rain-soaked landscape. Nathaniel kept the conversation minimal, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

"And my mum," I continued, "she loves inviting people over to eat her food."

Nathaniel nodded again, glancing in the rear-view mirror to check on Sophia. We came to a halt at a red light, and I pulled out my phone to see messages from Nara.

Nara: Make sure to text me when you arrive. And be careful. And let me know if he does anything. And make sure—

I switched my phone off, tucking it between my legs. The light turned green, and we continued our journey.

As we approached the outskirts of the city, the landscape began to change. The urban sprawl gave way to sprawling estates, each more impressive than the last. Finally, we turned onto a long, winding driveway lined with ancient oak trees. At the end of the drive stood an imposing mansion, its architecture reminiscent of a bygone era. The old stone facade was accentuated by intricate, blue-lined windows, giving the mansion an air of regal elegance.

Nathaniel pulled the car to a stop in front of the grand entrance. The rain had eased to a drizzle, but the sky remained a brooding gray. I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to check on Sophia. She was still sound asleep, her little giraffe toy clutched tightly in her hand.

"We're here," Nathaniel said softly, cutting the engine. He stepped out of the car and opened the back door to gently lift Sophia from her car seat. I grabbed my bag and followed him up the stone steps to the massive wooden door, its surface carved with intricate patterns.

Nathaniel unlocked the door, sliding his keys out and slipping them into his pocket with gentle movements, careful not to wake Sophia. He stepped inside, and I followed, my eyes widening in admiration at the beauty of the home. While I knew Nathaniel had money, the understated elegance of his house was a pleasant surprise.

The floors were a light beige oak, arranged in a herringbone pattern that added a touch of vintage sophistication. The walls, painted in a soft crème hue, provided a warm and inviting atmosphere. Dark blue frames encasing various paintings were scattered along the hallway, each piece of art carefully selected to complement the decor.

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