Jacklin and Dean stepped through the grand entrance of the Du Pont mansion, their footsteps echoing against the polished marble floor. The hallway lights were dimmed, casting soft shadows across the vast empty house. They both spotted their uncle seated on the living room couch, a rare sight for him. Most of the time, their uncle preferred to stay at the study. Was he waiting for them?
Clyde's back was straight, tablet in hand, eyes glued to the screen with a focused frown. His fingers moved quickly, scrolling and tapping with a practice ease.
Well, maybe they were overthinking it. Clyde didn't look like someone waiting for them.
Clyde barely looked up when they came in. "How was the dinner?" he asked, voice low and indifferent.
Dean took off his coat and popped into a chair. "Not bad. It seemed Emile's roommates were okay."
Clyde raised an eyebrow. "Even that silver-haired one?"
