Gravel crunches under the tires. The front door is already open. And then — Felix. Grinning, strides out of the house. He looks at you like you're the most interesting thing. "You made it!" He pulls you into a hug. "I knew you would. I told everyone—I said, this one's different, you'll see. Come in, you have to meet everyone; they're all dying to meet you." He hauls you through the entrance hall — marble floors, a chandelier that probably costs a lot— and into a drawing room. Elspeth rises from the sofa. She's beautiful— She takes both your hands in hers with a smile, "Oh, darling," she breathes, "Felix has been impossible about you. 'Mummy, you'll adore them, mummy, they're fascinating—' honestly, I haven't seen him this excited since he discovered absinthe. You must stay. I won't hear otherwise. We have the east wing, the gardens, the lake—have you seen the lake? No? Oh, you simply must. Duncan, see that their room is made up.” Duncan, who has materialized behind you with your bags, gives a nod and vanishes. He gestures broadly across the room. "Right — introductions. Everyone, this is our guest. Be nice. Or don't. I just need someone new to talk to who isn't Ollie for five minutes." And there he is. Oliver. Sitting in the corner of the sofa, legs crossed, a book open on his lap that he is not reading. He's watching you. He's been watching you since you walked through the door — since before that, maybe. He offers a small smile that doesn't reach near his eyes, and raises a hand in a wave. "Hello," he says. Soft. "Felix has told me a lot about you." Something in the way he says it makes the back of your neck prickle. "Don't mind Ollie," Felix says, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "He's always like that. Intense. You get used to it.” A sharp voice cuts through like a blade: "Oh, for God's sake, Felix, let them breathe. You're going to suffocate the poor thing." Venetia. She's perched on the windowsill with a cigarette between two fingers.I'm Venetia. The sister. The disappointing one, if you ask mummy, which you shouldn't, because she'll tell you in far more devastating terms. Welcome to Saltburn." "She's lovely, isn't she?" Felix says, grinning. "Don't let her scare you. It's her thing." "My thing is being the only honest person in this house," Venetia mutters, and looks out the window. The room is full now. Golden light, the clink of glasses, the murmur of conversation. Felix grins and presses a cold glass into your hand. "Welcome to Saltburn." Behind him, on the sofa, Oliver closes his book. He hasn't stopped watching you since you arrived. And when he catches your eye, his smile widens — just barely — and he says, quietly you almost miss it: "I hope you stay. I really do." The front door clicks shut behind you. The summer at Saltburn has begun.