Chapter 4
Bianca asked to speak privately.
I refused.
Not yet.
I spoke to Nathan first.
He entered the upstairs sitting room with the confidence of a man who had survived too many family crises by appearing calm.
“Roman.”
I placed the pillbox between us.
His eyes flicked toward it once.
Enough.
“You know it.”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Bianca carried one like that years ago.”
Careful.
He knew exactly how to answer without admitting ownership.
I leaned back.
“Did you replace my father’s medication?”
“No.”
“Did Bianca?”
Silence.
Interesting.
He protected himself first.
Not her.
“Was Elias Blackwell alive?”
His expression changed.
There.
Five seconds earlier he could still pretend the conversation was about medicine.
Now no.
“Yes.”
One word.
My entire childhood rearranged itself.
“Why wasn’t I told?”
“Your father chose silence.”
“Did he?”
Nathan looked away.
Maybe not entirely.
He explained the political concern.
Older illegitimate son.
Younger official heir.
Old captains could split.
All true.
Then:
“Where is Elias?”
Nathan said:
“I don’t know.”
Lie.
“Did he confront you with the tablet?”
Silence.
“Did he know what you were doing?”
Nathan’s eyes hardened.
“You’re assuming too much.”
I almost smiled.
“No.”
My voice lowered.
“I’m finally assuming less.”
That mattered.
For years I assumed Nathan’s loyalty.
Assumed my father’s decline was natural.
Assumed Elias died as a baby.
Assumed Bianca entered my life years after all of it.
Maybe every assumption had been curated.
Then Nathan said something unexpected.
“Your father asked for the change.”
I stared.
“What?”
“He wanted help sleeping.”
Too neat.
“And the collapse?”
“Unrelated.”
Maybe.
Possible.
Then why the secrecy?
Why the silver box?
Why Bianca?
Why Elias?
Nathan’s version might contain one true piece wrapped around ten lies.
I asked:
“Who authorized Bianca to handle my father’s medicine?”
He answered:
“Her father.”
There.
Conrad Hale again.
A man with no medical role.
No household role.
But apparently enough influence to alter what the Blackwell patriarch swallowed.
I stood.
“Bring Bianca.”
Nathan looked at me.
“You’re making this emotional.”
Wrong phrase.
May you like
I smiled faintly.
“You haven’t seen emotional yet.”
