LOGINELARA'S POV:I wait until the house is quiet.The clock on my nightstand glows 1:47 AM. Everyone is asleep. I can hear the soft hum of the heating system. I have been lying in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, waiting for this moment.I pull out my phone. My hands are shaking and my heart is pounding. I dial the number that I have memorized, the number that is etched into my memory like a scar since that letter was delivered to me.It rings once. Twice. Three times.Then his voice, low and rough and accented. "Elara. I was wondering when you would call."I press the phone closer to my ear. My voice is barely a whisper."It is working," I say. "They are turning on each other. Alistair hates me. Athena is suspicious of what I did but she cannot prove anything or accuse me because she has no evidence. Celestine is becoming more exhausted and confused. She does not know who to believe anymore."Vladimir's voice is warm with approval. "Good. Very good. You are doing exactly what I ask
LYSANDER'S POV: I hold my wife and I feel the weight of her exhaustion. She is trying to hold everyone together. She is trying to be the glue that keeps this family from falling apart. But the cracks are spreading, and I do not know if she can fix them. My thoughts was everywhere, especially on Elara and about the fall. About the accusation. I think about Isabelle and the kettle. I think about the way Athena looks at Elara now, like she is waiting for the other shoe to drop. I do not know what is happening. I do not know why Elara is doing this. But I know that something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. I kiss Celestine's forehead. "You need to rest," I say. "The baby is coming. You need to take care of yourself." "I cannot rest," she says. "There is too much to do." "There is always too much to do. But you are no good to anyone if you collapse." She looks up at me. Her brown eyes are red. "I am scared, Lysander." "Scared of what?" "Scared of losing them. Scared of
CELESTINE'S POV: I am so fucking exhausted. That is the only word for it. Exhausted in a way that goes deeper than sleep, deeper than rest, deeper than anything that can be fixed with a good night's rest. The pregnancy is wearing on me. I am in my forties now, and carrying a child at this age is different from carrying one in my twenties or thirties. My body aches. My energy is low. My emotions are all over the place. But it is not just the pregnancy. It is the house. It is the tension that hangs in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating, impossible to ignore. Alistair barely speaks to Elara. He barely looks at her. When they are in the same room, he finds an excuse to leave. When she speaks, he pretends he does not hear her. The boy who used to follow her around, who used to laugh at her jokes and ask her for help with his homework, now treats her like a stranger. Elara is quiet and withdrawn. She spends most of her time in her room, reading or staring at the wall or writing
ATHENA'S POV:I do not know where I am going. I just need to get away. I need to get away from that house. I need to get away from Elara. I need to get away from the look in her eyes.I think about what happened, the kettle, the hot water and the scream that follows. Isabelle's small hand, red and burned. Elara on the floor, crying, claiming she tried to stop her.I want to believe her. I want to believe that it was an accident. I want to believe that Elara is just a troubled girl who made a mistake.But something in my gut is telling me otherwise.That was when my thoughts went back to the stairs incident that happened some days ago. Alistair's accusation. Elara's fall. I think about the way Elara has been acting lately, quiet and withdrawn and distant. I think about the way she looks at me sometimes, like she is hiding something.I think about my own childhood. I think about the lies I told. I think about the masks I wore.Elara is wearing a mask. I am sure of it.I do not know wha
ELARA'S POV: Isabelle is eight years old and she adores me which is the first thing I noticed about her when she started coming to the house with her mother, Athena. She follows me everywhere. She sits beside me at dinner. She asks me questions about my books and my life and my thoughts. She wants to be just like her older cousin. She is sweet, she is innocent and she trusts me completely. That is exactly why I chose her. Vladimir's voice echoes in my head. Start small. Plant doubts. Create chaos. They will never suspect you. I have already planted the first seed with Alistair. Now I need to spread the poison further. I need to make sure that everyone in this family starts to doubt each other. I need to make sure that the Ashcrofts and Valancourts fall apart from the inside. Athena is visiting today. She came to see Celestine, to catch up, to spend time with her sister-in-law. She brought Isabelle with her, the little girl with the bright eyes and the eagre smile who follows me e
LYSANDER'S POV: I watch my family fall apart and I do not know how to stop it. Alistair is avoiding everyone. Celestine is drowning in guilt. Elara is quiet, too quiet, hiding in her room, barely speaking. The house that used to be full of noise and laughter and chaos is now silent and cold and wrong. I need to fix this. I need to bring my family back together. I need to find out what is really going on. I find Alistair in his room. He is sitting at his desk, staring at a book that he is not reading. His gray eyes are hollow, his face is pale, his shoulders are hunched. "Alistair," I say. "Can we talk?" He looks up at me. There is something in his eyes that I have never seen before. Something that looks like betrayal. "About what?" he asks. "About what happened, about Elara and about your mother." "I do not want to talk about it." I walk over and sit on the edge of his bed. I keep my voice calm. I keep my expression steady. I do not want to push him away the way Celestine di
"Don't be sorry. Just don't do it again. Don't disappear like that. Don't make me worry about you for three more years.""I won't," she said. "I'm done disappearing."Maxwell nodded. He reached out and took her hand, the same way their mother had done earlier, and he held it tight."I know about th
That was the difference between them. Sable appreciated him. Sable wanted him. Sable made him feel like a man and she loves him but Celestine just made him feel like a chore.And her clothes, oh my, her horrible frumpy clothes. Old sweaters and leggings and those flat shoes that made her look like
The clinic was small and clean. The walls were painted a soft blue, the color of the sky on a clear morning. There were pictures on the walls. Landscapes. Oceans. Fields of flowers. Nothing too cheerful. Nothing too sad, it was just neutral.A woman at the front desk looked up and smiled and it was
At seven thirty she put the pasta water on to boil, figuring she'd wait until he was actually here to cook it so it would be fresh. She sat on the couch with a book she couldn't focus on, her phone in her hand, checking it every thirty seconds like a teenager waiting for some boy to notice her. At







