Chapter 3 - THREE YEARS AGO
Nathan did not sleep.
Grace did not either.
Lily did.
That somehow made the night worse.
At three in the morning, Nathan stood in the old west library staring at the rain beyond the windows.
The same room.
Three years earlier.
Grace had stood beside the fireplace.
She was twenty-two then.
Too young for the kind of sorrow she carried after Thomas died.
Nathan had been forty-five.
Old enough to know distance would have been wiser.
He ignored wisdom.
Grace had worked for the estate because Thomas asked Nathan to keep her near after he died.
Nathan believed he was protecting an old friend’s daughter.
Then she became something else.
Not quickly.
Not safely.
Their relationship existed in fragments.
Coffee left on his desk.
Arguments about household staff.
Grace telling him his suits looked like funeral curtains.
Nathan making sure she never walked to the staff residence alone after midnight.
Neither admitted what was happening.
Then one night, after a storm trapped half the estate indoors, Grace kissed him.
Nathan remembered every second.
Two days later, she disappeared.
Now he knew she had been pregnant.
He heard her enter behind him.
“You hate me.”
Nathan did not turn.
“No.”
“That would be easier.”
“Yes.”
Grace stood several feet away.
“I wanted to tell you.”
“Three years.”
“I know.”
“You knew where I lived.”
“Yes.”
“You knew what I was.”
“Yes.”
“You also knew what I do to people who threaten mine.”
“That was why I stayed away.”
Nathan turned.
“You took my daughter because you were afraid I would protect her?”
“I took her because the people threatening her lived inside your house.”
That silenced him.
Grace continued.
“Marcus Reed drove me away personally.”
“Where?”
“A farmhouse near Virginia.”
“Why didn’t you run?”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Two weeks later.”
“Then why not come home?”
Grace looked toward the doorway.
“Because they found me again.”
“Who?”
“I never saw him clearly.”
“Man?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“Lily.”
Nathan’s face changed.
“She wasn’t born yet.”
“No.”
“He knew I was pregnant.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he say?”
Grace swallowed.
“He said if I ever contacted you, the child would disappear before she learned your name.”
Nathan’s hands became fists.
Grace continued.
“I moved constantly until Lily was born. Then I changed my name back to Miller because hiding forever only made me easier to isolate.”
“You raised her alone.”
“Yes.”
“Who helped?”
“My father’s oldest friend. Henry Vale.”
Nathan knew the name.
Retired bookmaker.
Minor Cole associate.
Dead seven months.
“What did Henry know?”
“Enough to keep me alive.”
“Why come back now?”
Grace looked at him.
“Because Henry died.”
Nathan stared.
“Natural?”
Grace shook her head.
“He was found at home.”
“Who did it?”
“I don’t know.”
Another answer Nathan hated.
“What changed after?”
“A box arrived.”
“What box?”
“Black wood.”
Grace’s voice lowered.
“Inside was Julian’s photograph.”
“Recent?”
“Yes.”
“How recent?”
“Lily was in it.”
Nathan stopped breathing.
“What?”
“He was standing across the street from her preschool.”
Nathan’s face hardened.
“Julian was watching her?”
“I don’t know if he was protecting her or studying her.”
“Where’s the photograph?”
Grace reached inside her handbag.
She placed it on the table.
Nathan stared.
An older man.
Late forties.
Gray beginning at the temples.
Standing beside a newspaper box.
Face partly turned.
But Nathan knew.
Julian.
Alive.
Behind him, through the school fence, Lily played.
On the back of the photo:
COME HOME BEFORE HE CHOOSES FOR YOU.
Nathan read it twice.
“Who sent this?”
“No name.”
“What did Henry say before he died?”
Grace sat slowly.
“The last time I saw him, he said the Black Table was moving again.”
“Who?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“Why?”
“He was terrified.”
Nathan almost smiled without humor.
“Henry Vale survived forty years around my family.”
“I know.”
“What frightened him?”
Grace looked directly at Nathan.
“Your wedding.”
Victoria.
The engagement had been announced six weeks earlier.
Marriage would tie Nathan to the Hayes family.
Victoria’s father, Richard Hayes, had built influence through shipping and private clubs.
Old money.
New ambition.
Nathan had considered the marriage useful.
Victoria was intelligent.
Controlled.
Strong enough to survive his world.
He had mistaken that for trust.
“What does Victoria have to do with the Black Table?”
Grace’s face tightened.
“She knew Lily existed.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know how long.”
“She knew enough to threaten her.”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Grace hesitated.
“Victoria visited Henry before he died.”
Nathan stared.
“When?”
“Three days before.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Henry tell you?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
Grace removed something else from her handbag.
A silver cigarette lighter.
Hayes crest.
Nathan had seen Victoria use it.
He took it.
“Where?”
“Beside Henry’s body.”
Nathan looked at the lighter.
Victoria had told him she lost one exactly like it two months earlier.
A small lie.
Maybe meaningless.
Maybe not.
Then Nathan noticed something scratched beneath the metal base.
A symbol.
Black square.
One chair carved inside.
Grace whispered:
“My father drew that symbol the night before he died.”
Nathan felt the darkness of the old family moving toward him.
May you like
The Black Table was not a story.
And somebody had just placed a chair for him.
