Chapter 7
The Bellori family wanted the investigation stopped.
Not formally.
Families like theirs rarely spoke plainly when euphemisms worked better.
At Sunday lunch, two senior cousins told Orson he was “disturbing old grief.”
An uncle warned that Tamsin had already “paid enough.”
Another relative said Luca’s death had destroyed her life.
Orson listened.
Then asked:
“What exactly did she pay?”
Nobody answered.
“Did she lose a son?”
“Yes.”
“Did Luca lose anything?”
Silence.
Orson continued.
“You all keep describing what happened to Tamsin after Luca died. I’m asking what happened to Luca before he died.”
One cousin became angry.
“You think putting her on trial thirteen years later brings him back?”
“No.”
“Then what is this?”
Orson looked toward the nursery wing.
“Making sure nobody tells Mara that suffering quietly is the price of keeping adults comfortable.”
That conversation divided the family.
Some believed Orson was right.
Others saw the matter as private grief that should remain buried.
One man said the worst possible thing.
“At least nothing happened to Mara.”
Orson removed him from the estate before dessert.
Nothing happened.
Mara had been on the floor unable to breathe comfortably while an adult laughed.
The fact that treatment worked did not erase the act.
That evening, Elena explained Orson’s legal options.
Tamsin’s conduct at the dinner could be reported.
There were multiple witnesses.
Mara’s physician could document the medical risk without exaggerating it.
But involving outside authorities would mean Orson’s own actions would also be scrutinized.
“You slapped her,” Elena reminded him.
“I know.”
“Security footage exists.”
“I know.”
“Tamsin’s attorney will use it.”
“Then he uses it.”
Elena studied him.
“You’re willing to accept that?”
Orson looked at Mara sleeping through the nursery monitor.
May you like
“If I demand accountability only when it costs me nothing, I’m just another Bellori hiding behind the family.”
That answer led directly to the decision he would make next.
