Chapter 3
Gavin called Colemere a family custom.
Convenient phrase.
His father supposedly believed the first newborn of the next generation should be brought to the old estate before returning home.
A symbolic homecoming.
I listened.
Then asked:
“Why pack Mila?”
He hesitated.
“Because she’s Sienna’s daughter.”
Wrong.
Mila was his daughter too.
His hesitation told me something deeper.
“What exactly happens at Colemere?”
“Nothing.”
“Then you wouldn’t need to lie.”
Silence.
I leaned back.
He looked exhausted, frightened, but still convinced he could explain his way through this.
“My mother takes these things seriously.”
“Your mother held my granddaughter while your sister cut her hair.”
He flinched.
Good.
“Try again.”
Gavin finally admitted there would be people waiting.
Not dozens.
Six.
All senior Cole relatives.
Two old associates.
One family priest who no longer served a church but still handled private ceremonies.
Now it sounded less like childbirth support.
“What ceremony?”
His face tightened.
“Blessing.”
I waited.
He added:
“And naming.”
Sienna had already chosen the baby’s name.
Elena Rose.
After her mother.
My late wife.
I kept my face still.
“What name?”
Gavin looked away.
There.
“What name were they planning to give my granddaughter?”
He whispered:
“Thomasina Cole.”
I stared.
My unborn granddaughter already had a name.
Her mother chose it.
Her father had apparently agreed.
Yet an entire second plan existed.
Different house.
Different witnesses.
Different name.
I understood why Sienna needed to arrive before labor.
They were not waiting for a baby.
They were waiting for control of the first hours after birth.
“What happens if Sienna says no?”
Gavin said nothing.
Good.
I knew where to look next.
“At Colemere, who makes the decisions?”
“My mother.”
There.
Not Gavin.
Marjorie.
The woman who had pinned Mila down was not merely defending her son.
She was protecting a ritual of authority.
Then Gavin finally said:
“You don’t understand what my father left unfinished.”
I stared.
“My granddaughter is not an unfinished sentence belonging to your dead father.”
May you like
His face changed.
Because that was exactly what the Cole family believed.
