The manor was eerily quiet.
Only the low hum of the surveillance system echoed in the air.
Dominic glanced at her.
Her shoulders were slightly tense.
It was a rare sight of exhaustion.
He spoke tentatively.
“Donna Ferraro, I’ll keep an eye on the rest.”
“You should go back and be with your daughter.”
“It’s her birthday today.”
My mother paused.
She looked down at her phone.
The moment the screen lit up, her expression softened.
There was even a hint of a smile. That smile, I'd never seen before.
"Not my daughter," she said casually, as if correcting a trivial mistake. "She's my niece."
"She's waiting for me at the manor for dinner."
With that, she turned and left.
Even her footsteps were lighter than before.
Like…impatient.
I stood there.
Suddenly, I felt a chill.
Dominic didn't move.
He took a cigarette from his pocket, slowly twirling it between his fingers, but didn't light it.
He muttered something under his breath.
"Niece…"
"She comes to the manor often."
"But her biological daughter…I've never seen her even once."
He paused.
As if suddenly realizing something.
But he didn't continue thinking about it.
I looked at him.
Suddenly, I found it ridiculous.
This question.
I've asked myself countless times.