The townhouse is quiet when Meechum holds the front door open. Claire steps in, thanking him as absently as he scrutinizes her inscrutable expression, as always.
"Thank you, Edward."
"No problem, ma'am."
She climbs the stairs to the master bedroom. In here she feels free to remove her heels and lie on the bed that Francis makes perfectly each morning, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
Something inside her triggers, and she reaches for her cell phone but Adam is not there. She deleted his contact after their showdown in the office.
"You wanted to be seen?" Adam had asked her that day in the park.
"Not just seen. I wanted to be significant."
Her phone vibrates but it is Francis calling. Dispirited, her brow wrinkles somewhat and she collects herself off the bed, smoothing herself with immaculate poise, garnering strength for the road to come. She reminds herself that it is not long before another seven years will be up.
"I can't live alone in this house, Francis... "
She feels trapped and isolated. Not that everything isn't going to plan, it is. Soon her husband will be the most powerful man in the world.
But what will she be? His accomplice? Was strangling that inner girl worth it?
Claire doesn't answer the question. Her wrists flex as she calmly disposes of the problem and rises to be someone significant.