Chapter 1
“Lenette. You told me my son was cremated.”
She looked at the open trunk.
Not at me.
That was the first mistake.
The boy stood pressed against Sybil, clutching the knitted rabbit beneath his chin.
I knew that rabbit.
My mother had made it five years ago.
One bent ear.
Gray wool body.
A single green thread around the left paw because she ran out of gray before finishing.
There was only one.
I had placed it beside my newborn son myself.
My voice dropped.
“What is your name?”
The boy looked at Sybil first.
She nodded gently.
“Elias.”
My chest stopped moving.
Elias Alderbourne.
The name I had not spoken aloud in almost four years.
Lenette whispered:
“Ronan, listen to me.”
I did not.
I crouched.
“Elias. Who put you in the trunk?”
He stared at me.
Then slowly pointed.
At Lenette.
Her face drained.
“He ran into the ballroom. I panicked.”
“You put a child in a box.”
“For two minutes.”
Sybil’s expression hardened.
“The latch was closed.”
Lenette glared at her.
I rose.
“Don’t look at her.”
Lenette looked back at me.
Good.
“Where is his mother?”
That question frightened her more.
Elias answered.
“Mommy’s outside.”
Everything inside me went cold.
“Outside where?”
“At the big gate.”
Rafe was moving before I finished turning.
“Bring her in.”
Lenette stepped forward.
“Ronan, you don’t understand what she is.”
I looked at her.
“What is she?”
No answer.
Elias tugged Sybil’s apron.
“Mommy said Miss Lenette would let us see Daddy this time.”
This time.
Not first attempt.
I looked at my fiancée.
“How many times have they come here?”
Silence.
Then Sybil spoke quietly.
“I saw a woman at the gate last Christmas.”
Lenette shut her eyes.
There it was.
Not one lie four years ago.
A lie maintained every time my son came close enough to expose it.
The ballroom doors opened.
Rafe entered.
And behind him stood the woman I had once loved enough to imagine growing old beside.
Celia Mercer.
May you like
Alive.
Holding four years of unanswered letters in both hands.
