Part 2
Elena’s eyes moved between them.
“You told me she wouldn’t be here until tomorrow,” Mara continued. “Then this afternoon Mr. Adrian said nobody was to drive you anywhere. I thought—” She swallowed. “I thought maybe you had been asking because you needed her.”
“You called her?”
“I’m sorry.”
Elena sat on a stool without appearing to decide to. The shawl slipped from one shoulder. Victoria reached to replace it, then let her hand fall.
Mara’s face tightened. “Your bag is in the mudroom closet.”
Celeste entered the kitchen before anyone could respond.
She had smoothed her emerald dress and replaced the expression Victoria had found in the salon with one of injured dignity.
“Mara,” she said, “you may leave.”
Mara did not move.
“You are an employee,” Celeste added.
Victoria turned her head. “So are you.”
Celeste’s gold necklace rose and fell with one sharp breath.
“I have managed this property for eleven years.”
“And you will explain your management of it tomorrow.”
“You struck your own son.”
“Yes.”
The simplicity of the answer unsettled Celeste more than denial would have.
“Adrian has called Richard,” she said. “He is documenting everything.”
Richard Bell was the family’s general counsel. For twenty-three years, he had handled tax disputes, property acquisitions, employment claims, and the occasional disaster that could not be described honestly in an email.
Victoria looked at Elena.
“Is your phone in the bag?”
“I think so.”
Mara left the kitchen and returned less than a minute later with a soft leather tote. Elena opened it on the island. Inside were a wallet, a paperback novel, a silver hairbrush, two unopened envelopes, and a phone with a cracked corner.
She pressed the power button.
Nothing happened.
“I charged it this morning.”
Mara found a cable in a drawer and plugged the phone into an outlet beside the coffee machine. The screen remained black.
Celeste crossed her arms. “Perhaps it was damaged when Elena threw it.”
Elena looked up. “I didn’t throw it.”
“You knocked it from the table.”
“You took it from me.”
“I was trying to stop you from making an embarrassing call while you were hysterical.”
“To whom?”
Celeste opened her mouth, then glanced at Victoria.
Elena’s voice stayed quiet. “Who was I calling?”
Celeste’s expression shifted, just slightly. She had expected tears or rage, not a question she would have to answer.
“I don’t remember.”
“You said it was embarrassing. Who was I calling?”
“This interrogation is absurd.”
Victoria stepped closer to the island.
“Who was she calling, Celeste?”
“I have no idea.”
Mara stared down at the folded towel she had picked up again.
“What did you see?” Victoria asked her.
Celeste snapped, “She saw nothing.”
Mara’s hands stopped.
Victoria waited.
“I saw Mrs. Elena come downstairs with her bag,” Mara said. “She asked me to call the car service because her app wasn’t working. Mr. Adrian came in from the terrace. He told me not to make the call.”
Adrian appeared in the kitchen doorway.
The red mark on his cheek was visible beneath the hard white lights. He had not changed from his navy satin lounge set. His smartphone rested in his palm.
“Mara,” he said, “go home.”
Mara’s eyes lowered automatically.
Elena’s did not.
“Did you disable my car account?” she asked.
Adrian leaned against the doorframe. “I suspended a household expense after you tried to leave in the middle of an argument.”
“You canceled my card.”
“Temporarily.”
“You changed the password to my email.”
“I didn’t touch your email.”
“You knew about the conservatory message.”
“You left your laptop open.”
Victoria looked at Elena. “What message?”
Adrian answered. “A part-time teaching offer she has no intention of taking.”
Elena’s face emptied.
“You replied to it.”
“I declined an impractical commitment.”
“It was mine to decline.”
“You told me last month you weren’t ready.”
“I said I was afraid.”
“You said you couldn’t handle the schedule.”
“I said I didn’t know if I could.”
Adrian gave a tired little exhale, as though the distinction exhausted him. “This is what the entire day has been. Every sentence becomes evidence of some offense.”
Elena pressed both palms to the stone island. Her injured wrist shook.
Victoria saw Adrian notice. His gaze touched the mark and moved away.
“What happened in the salon?” she asked.
“Elena was upset.”
“What happened to her wrist?”
“I didn’t touch her.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Celeste intervened. “She tried to leave. I caught the shawl. Her wrist may have brushed against the piano.”
Elena looked at Celeste. “You grabbed me.”
“I held your arm because you stumbled.”
“You told me I was not walking out before the gala.”
Celeste’s lips parted.
Adrian straightened from the doorframe. “Enough.”
The word was not loud. It did not need to be. Celeste fell silent at once.
Victoria looked from one to the other.
Something old and sour moved through her. Recognition did not arrive as a thought. It arrived in the way her stomach tightened before her mind could supply a reason.
“Richard is coming,” Adrian said. “We can discuss this privately.”
“No,” Elena said.
They all turned toward her.
She unplugged the dead phone and put it into her bag.
“No more private discussions.”
Adrian’s expression did not harden. That would have been easier to name. Instead, he looked almost patient.
“Elena, you are exhausted. You haven’t eaten.”
“You canceled the car.”
“To stop you from disappearing down a cliff road at dusk while crying.”
“You took my wallet.”
“Celeste held it because you dropped your bag.”
“You kept my passport in your safe.”
“Our safe.”
“I don’t know the combination.”
“You never asked.”
“I asked twice.”
“Then I forgot.”
Elena closed the bag. Her breathing had steadied, but the muscles along her shoulders remained rigid.
“Open it.”
Adrian studied her.
Victoria watched the calculation pass behind his face. He was deciding what kind of refusal would look reasonable.
May you like
“Not with everyone crowded into the kitchen,” he said.
Elena looked at Victoria. “Can we go?”
