Mara was out of sight, and Balfour didn't bother himself with the details; he just delved back into his work.
No sooner had Alyssa stepped out than she saw Mara bustling down from upstairs, clutching a glass of milk as if her life depended on it.
Alyssa wondered what on earth had taken Mara upstairs in the first place – wasn't her room on the ground floor?
Trusting her gut, Alyssa decided to follow.
Upon reaching the kitchen, Mara started scrubbing a glass furiously, something normally left to the servants. What was she doing in the kitchen, of all places?
Puzzled, Alyssa called out to Mara from the doorway.
Mara jumped, almost dropping the glass in the sink.
She turned to face the doorway, where Alyssa stood, unsure if she had been seen doing something she shouldn't have.
"Alyssa? I thought you were resting in your room. What brings you out here? Need a glass of water? Let me pour you one," she offered, her voice trembling slightly, her body strangely still, as if to hide something.
Alyssa didn't look back as she returned to her room. Once Mara heard the door close, she exhaled in relief and resumed her task at the sink, cleaning the glass thoroughly before tucking it away in the cabinet, indistinguishable from the others. Only then did she allow herself a smug smile.
"Balfour, dear, if you're tired, rest up," she whispered to herself.
Back in her room, Alyssa didn't rest immediately but stood by the door, listening intently for any sounds outside.
Dean woke up, bemused by her antics, "What's all this about, dear? Not sleeping at this hour? You'll have a headache come morning."
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