I peek out from behind the balcony railing as mama answers the door. The man in the doorway is wearing a mask, what is behind it? Is he my father?
"Welcome! Come in, Mr. …?"
The man clears his throat. "Landrieu. Erik Landrieu. Thank you for letting me come once again. How is our daughter doing? And how is business getting along?"
"You haven't changed a bit, sir. She is doing fine. And you would have to ask my husband about that," mama sighs.
"You don't look half-bad yourself, Amelia, mon amour petite," the masked man purrs.
"Dinner is almost ready, you can wait in the living room. Perhaps you can get to know Jeremy, my husband of ten years, and catch up on business."
I make my way down the stairs and into the living room. Papa is discussing something with the masked man. Something to do with drawings on paper.