Chapter 3
Preston said the message was old.
It wasn’t.
The timestamp showed thirty seconds.
Tiffany looked at him with open hatred.
“You idiot.”
Good.
I was learning that panic made the Caldwells honest.
I held out my hand again.
“Phone.”
“No.”
My father spoke quietly.
“Tiffany.”
She looked at him.
That was enough.
She handed it over.
I unlocked it with the code I had watched her use dozens of times.
Her birthday.
People who believe everyone else is beneath them rarely imagine anyone is studying them.
The gallery opened.
Hundreds of videos.
Some wedding planning.
Some parties.
Then me.
Carrying trays.
Scrubbing floors.
Standing beside Victoria while she inspected my hands.
One video showed Preston taking away my dinner.
I remembered that night.
“You don’t eat until my mother eats.”
I had laughed.
He slapped the plate from my hand.
On-screen, Victoria said:
“Good. Hunger teaches poor girls gratitude.”
My father stopped breathing beside me.
Preston said:
“That was taken out of context.”
I looked at him.
“You starved me because I sat before your mother.”
“You missed one meal.”
Victoria added:
“She survived.”
There it was.
Their standard.
Alive meant acceptable.
I kept scrolling.
A basement video.
Tiffany filmed from behind stacked wine crates.
Preston stood in front of me.
I remembered the room.
But I hadn’t known she was recording.
On-screen, Preston held my engagement ring.
“You get this back when you apologize.”
I had said:
“For what?”
“For embarrassing my mother.”
Then Victoria’s voice from outside frame:
“And if she refuses, lock the door.”
The video shook with Tiffany’s laughter.
My father looked at me.
“How long?”
I whispered:
“Six hours.”
Victoria scoffed.
“With food.”
“No.”
She frowned.
I looked at her.
“You left water.”
Preston interrupted:
“You could have apologized.”
That sentence changed my father’s face.
I placed one hand against his chest.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“This part is mine.”
I turned to Preston.
“You thought I stayed because I was afraid of losing you.”
He smiled bitterly.
“Weren’t you?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
The entire ballroom waited.
Because that was the question.
Why would Sebastian Pembroke’s daughter allow any of this?
I looked at him.
“Because I wanted to know who you became when you thought nobody powerful was watching.”
May you like
Preston’s smile disappeared.
And now I had my answer.
