Chapter 2
I cleared the portrait gallery.
No speech.
No public accusation.
Guests were moved into the ballroom while my security team closed the gallery doors.
Avelise stayed only because I asked whether she wanted to.
She surprised me.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She looked at Serilda.
“Because tomorrow she’ll say I agreed.”
Good.
Fear does not erase intelligence.
I seated Avelise away from the portrait.
Then I placed the sapphire necklace on the console.
“Start from yesterday.”
She did.
Evangeline arrived at the mansion shortly before noon.
No appointment.
Normal.
She had been walking into Wrenmoor House without one for nine years.
That was my first mistake.
She carried a narrow black case.
Went directly to Serilda’s rooms.
Stayed nearly two hours.
Later, Serilda called Avelise upstairs.
Why her?
Because Avelise’s mother, Maribel Dunwick, had once served Lenora as a dresser.
That name reached somewhere deep in memory.
Maribel.
Quiet woman.
Excellent with fabrics.
Left the estate after Lenora died.
“What happened upstairs?”
Avelise looked embarrassed.
“Miss Serilda asked if I thought she looked like Mrs. Lenora.”
Serilda closed her eyes.
Then:
“She asked whether Mr. Godfrey still went into the portrait gallery alone.”
I stared.
Avelise had answered honestly.
Sometimes.
Especially on Lenora’s birthday.
Not to worship.
To remember.
But apparently every private moment had become material for someone else’s insecurity.
Then Evangeline entered.
She opened the black case.
Inside:
The necklace.
And one tube of dark plum lipstick.
Lenora’s preferred shade.
I looked at the tube still in Serilda’s hand.
Not identical brand.
Modern replacement.
Close enough.
Avelise continued.
Evangeline held the necklace against Serilda first.
Then laughed.
Said it looked wrong.
Wrong coloring.
Wrong posture.
Wrong eyes.
Then she turned toward Avelise.
“Try the maid.”
My fingers curled against the chair.
Serilda whispered:
“I should have stopped her.”
“Yes.”
No comfort.
She did not stop her.
Instead she listened.
Evangeline told her:
“If Godfrey sees Lenora in someone beneath him and still looks past you, then at least you’ll know what you married.”
That sentence was poison disguised as clarity.
Serilda swallowed it.
Then added her own cruelty.
Tonight had been her idea.
Public.
Under the portrait.
With guests.
I looked at her.
“Evangeline loaded the weapon.”
May you like
A pause.
“You pulled the trigger.”
