Chapter 2
I did not question Adrian in the dining hall.
Too many relatives.
Too many ears.
Too many people already calculating what Elena being alive might mean.
I took him into my father’s old library.
Emma came too.
Not because she belonged in family business.
Because Elena’s message had arrived beneath a serving dome Emma was supposed to lift.
That made her part of the truth whether anyone liked it or not.
I placed the pendant on the desk.
“Start talking.”
Adrian folded his arms.
“You’re assuming the voice is real.”
I pressed the pendant again.
Elena’s weak voice filled the room.
“Salvatore… Adrian hid me in the east glasshouse.”
I stopped it.
“My wife.”
Adrian stared.
“I heard it.”
“You recognized her.”
“I recognized a recording.”
I leaned back.
He was buying time.
Emma looked toward him.
Then quietly said:
“You knew she kept birds.”
Adrian turned.
“What?”
Emma swallowed.
“After Mrs. Bellandi died, you told the gardeners to destroy the old cages.”
I looked at him.
He said nothing.
Emma continued.
“You said Mr. Bellandi didn’t need reminders.”
I remembered that order.
I had believed it came from kindness.
Adrian was helping remove painful memories.
Maybe he had been removing pathways.
“How many cages?”
Emma thought.
“Six.”
“Were all destroyed?”
“No.”
Adrian looked at her sharply.
Emma flinched.
I noticed.
“Which one survived?”
“The small recovery cage behind the glasshouse.”
My hands became still.
Nobody had told me that.
“Why?”
“One gardener refused. He said Mrs. Bellandi asked him never to destroy it.”
“Name.”
“Thomas Reed.”
Adrian laughed.
“He left years ago.”
Emma shook her head.
“No.”
We both looked at her.
“He still comes once a month.”
Adrian’s face changed.
Emma continued.
“He feeds the birds behind the sealed gardens.”
The room went silent.
Three years.
The east glasshouse had supposedly been abandoned for three years.
Yet somebody was still feeding birds behind it.
I picked up Elena’s pendant.
“Bring me Thomas Reed.”
Adrian’s voice sharpened.
“Salvatore.”
I looked at him.
“If you tell me not to open that glasshouse, choose your next words very carefully.”
May you like
He closed his mouth.
That answer was almost as useful as a confession.
