Rosalie
Ethan rose early in the morning, several hours before I finally roused myself and traveled downstairs for a cup of coffee and one of Gretchen’s breakfasts. Georgia and Talon had already left for Gemma’s house, and the house was quiet, save for the sound of the washing machine running downstairs in the garage.
I tapped my fingers on my coffee mug as I moved from window to window in the living room, staring out at the ice-covered inlet with interest.
We had gotten home from Mirage only a day ago, and I expected Ethan to want to rest for a while before diving into our typical duties that had been put on hold for the past several weeks.
But he wasn’t in his office. He wasn’t in the house at all. And after a short, brisk walk to the castle, I found him to be totally missing altog
