The calmness of that movement disturbed Tessa more than another outburst would have. Lenora smoothed the front of her skirt and rested her hands on her knees, returning almost completely to the composed woman who had been reading a catalogue fifteen minutes earlier. Only the reddened cheek from Tessa’s slap and the small dots of blood on one cuff contradicted the appearance.
Evan stared at her from across the room.
“You’re going to tell the police exactly what happened.”
Lenora looked toward the windows. Somewhere beyond the gates, faint but unmistakable, sirens had begun climbing the mountain road.
“You should be worrying about your daughter.”
“I am.”
“No.” Lenora’s gaze returned to him. “You’re protecting something you don’t understand.”
Evan’s face tightened with anger, but Tessa noticed another reaction beneath it, something brief enough that she might have missed it if she had not been watching him so closely. When Lenora spoke about understanding, he looked away.
The sirens became louder.
Tessa pressed a folded towel gently against the side of Maisie’s head as instructed by the dispatcher, listening to the child’s uneven crying while watching her husband and mother-in-law across the room. The marble floor between them glittered with pieces of broken glass, and the old wooden box remained open near the cabinet, its contents scattered where Maisie had left them. Tessa could see the tarnished coin and the red thread from where she sat, but there was no time to ask what any of it meant.
Lenora noticed her looking.
Something passed through the older woman’s expression, and for the first time since the attack she appeared genuinely afraid.
The sound of tires reached the drive.
Evan turned toward the entrance hall, but Lenora spoke before he could move.
“Evan.”