Chapter 2
Celeste laughed.
That was her first mistake.
Not loudly.
Not naturally.
A short, brittle sound that made every person in the room look at her.
“Elena was frightened of everything.”
I stared at her.
She shrugged.
“You remember how she was.”
I did.
Which was why the insult failed.
Elena had been many things.
Stubborn.
Impatient.
Too curious for her own peace.
But frightened?
Rarely.
Celeste walked toward me.
“She was always imagining enemies in corners.”
I raised one hand.
She stopped.
The recorder continued.
Elena's voice was quieter now.
“I don't know exactly what they're planning. Marcus keeps meeting someone in your study after midnight.”
Marcus finally stood.
His lip was bleeding.
“This is three-year-old nonsense.”
The recording continued.
“I heard Celeste with him tonight.”
Celeste's face hardened.
Marcus looked at her.
Then came voices.
Not Elena.
A door opening.
Footsteps.
The recorder had been left running beneath the floor.
Marcus's voice.
Older.
But unmistakable.
“She suspects.”
Then Celeste.
“She suspects everything.”
Marcus again.
“If she tells Dante—”
Celeste cut him off.
“She won't.”
The tape hissed.
My entire ballroom had stopped breathing.
Celeste folded her arms.
“You're seriously going to judge me over a conversation from years ago?”
I looked at her.
“You told him Elena wouldn't tell me.”
“She didn't.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Celeste rolled her eyes.
“Maybe she finally realized no one wanted to hear another one of her paranoid little stories.”
My jaw tightened.
She saw it and smiled.
There.
That was who she became when she stopped pretending.
“You know what your problem is, Dante?”
Marcus said sharply:
“Celeste.”
She ignored him.
“You've turned Elena into a saint because she's dead.”
Lily was still beside me.
Celeste looked directly at her.
“Your mother spent half her life panicking over shadows.”
Lily's face changed.
I stepped between them.
“Don't speak about her mother again.”
Celeste lifted her chin.
“Why? The child will have to learn eventually that dead people aren't automatically good people.”
Adrian whispered:
“Jesus.”
I didn't move.
“Continue.”
Celeste blinked.
“What?”
“The tape.”
She looked at the recorder.
Fear returned.
Small.
Fast.
Enough.
I pressed PLAY again.
Marcus's old voice came through.
“If Dante changes the north gate rotation, we're finished.”
Celeste answered.
“He won't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I already handled it.”
Static.
Then nothing.
The tape clicked off.
I looked at Marcus.
“The north gate.”
He shrugged.
“Three years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Ask the dead.”
I walked toward him.
He smiled.
“You going to hit me again because your wife recorded people talking?”
“No.”
I stopped inches away.
“I want to know why you remembered exactly which gate she meant.”
His smile disappeared.
Adrian spoke from behind me.
“Uncle Dante…”
I turned.
He looked at Celeste.
“I saw her in your study two weeks ago.”
Celeste's eyes flashed.
Adrian continued.
“She was on the floor.”
“What was she doing?”
He swallowed.
“Pulling at the boards.”
Nobody moved.
Then Marcus said something he should never have said.
“She was checking the wrong one.”
The room froze.
Marcus closed his eyes.
Too late.
I looked at him.
“You've been searching for this recorder.”
He said nothing.
“For how long?”
Still nothing.
Celeste stared at him with pure hatred.
And I finally understood why Lily had been locked outside.
May you like
They hadn't been punishing a child for bringing trash into the ballroom.
They had been trying to keep a three-year-old from handing me something they had failed to find for years.
