Chapter 2
I moved Rose upstairs.
Mila came with us.
Bianca did not.
Nathan certainly did not.
The gala remained downstairs under Rafe’s control.
No one left.
Not yet.
I placed the silver pillbox on a side table.
No one opened it.
I did not need to know what was inside tonight to know what mattered.
The pattern.
“Mother.”
Rose sat slowly.
“What happened five years ago?”
She stared toward the window.
“I thought your father was losing himself.”
That sentence hurt.
Not because she believed it.
Because I had too.
After his collapse, he became suspicious.
Angry.
Sometimes confused.
He accused Nathan of changing meeting times.
Accused servants of moving documents.
Once accused me of siding against him.
I thought grief from aging had turned him cruel.
So did everyone.
That story benefited Nathan.
Perfectly.
“What did you see?”
Rose explained.
The morning after my father collapsed, Nathan came to the breakfast room before sunrise.
He took something from the medication tray.
Later, Rose saw the silver pillbox in his coat pocket.
She asked.
Nathan said it belonged to Bianca.
At the time, Bianca was only a family guest.
Daughter of an allied house.
Not my fiancée.
Not even close.
“So you believed him?”
Rose’s face tightened.
“I wanted to.”
Important.
She had already suspected Nathan.
But believing him preserved stability.
Then Mila spoke.
“There was something else.”
I looked at her.
She saw my father throw one tablet onto the carpet during the argument.
After Bianca and Nathan left, Mila found it.
She hid it.
“Why?”
“I was scared.”
“Where is it?”
Her expression broke.
“I gave it to someone.”
“Who?”
She hesitated.
Then:
“Your brother.”
I went still.
I had no brother.
Not publicly.
Only one child had ever been acknowledged in the Blackwell line.
Me.
Mila saw my confusion.
She whispered:
“Mr. Elias.”
The name hit harder than any punch.
Elias Blackwell.
My father’s first son.
May you like
The one the family told me died as an infant.
Apparently he had lived long enough for Mila to know him as an adult.
