Chapter 2

The silence lasted exactly four seconds.

Vivian lay on the polished wood floor, her cheek pressed against a grain so fine she could feel every ridge of it. Her right hand was frozen mid-reach, six inches from the bassinet leg. Her left hand lay limp beside her. The thin red line at her temple had stopped bleeding, but the skin around it was beginning to swell.

She heard Theo take a breath — a tiny, sleeping sound — and felt something in her chest crack open.

"Vivian." Helena's voice came from the dining table, still seated, still untouched by what had just happened. "I said get up."

The service door exploded.

It didn't just open. It burst — the oak slamming against the wall so hard the hinges screamed, the sound cracking through the room like a gunshot. Vivian's eyes flew open. She saw Rosa Delgado stumble through the doorway, her gray uniform dress wrinkled and damp with sweat, her white apron twisted sideways, her face —

Vivian had known Rosa for two years. She had never seen Rosa's face look like that.

"Marcus!" Rosa's voice was raw, scraped clean by hours of screaming. "Marcus, where is Marcus!"

Victor was out of his chair. He moved faster than Vivian had ever seen him move, his stocky body crossing the dining room in three strides, his right hand outstretched toward Rosa, his gold ring catching the light.

"Rosa," Victor said, his voice low and dangerous. "Whatever you're about to say —"

"I'll say it!" Rosa was past him already, on her knees in the middle of the room, her hands clasped together so tight her knuckles had gone pale. "She locked me in! She locked me in the service room and she took the documents and I heard everything, I heard every word!"

"Rosa." Victor's hand closed on her shoulder. "Shut your mouth."

"Let her speak," said a voice from the doorway.

Everyone turned.

Marcus stood in the service doorway — no, not the service doorway, the kitchen entrance on the opposite side of the room, the one that led from the back hall. He must have come in through the front of the house, must have heard the pounding and circled around. He was wearing the navy cable-knit sweater, dark trousers, his dark hair swept back from his face, his deep-set blue eyes moving from Vivian's collapsed form on the floor to Rosa's kneeling figure to his mother's frozen face.

He crossed the room in five strides. He didn't stop for Rosa. He didn't stop for Helena. He went straight past them all and dropped to his knees beside Vivian, his hand going to her face, his fingers gentle on the swelling at her temple.

"What happened?" His voice was hoarse. "Vivian. Vivian, look at me."

"I'm okay." The words came out wrong, thick and slow. "I just — I got dizzy. I fell."

"You fell." Marcus looked up at his mother, and Vivian saw something she had never seen before in his eyes. "And what were you doing while she fell, Helena?"