Bailey’s hand moved at last.
The envelope was unsealed. Inside was a single sheet of paper.
She unfolded it.
My dearest Bailey,
If this reaches you, then Stefan has decided the time for silence has passed. You will be angry. You have every right to be.
There are truths I could not tell you while you lived beneath your father’s roof. There are others I could not tell you because I did not yet know whom to trust.
Please believe only this for now: I did not leave because I stopped loving you.
I left because staying would have made you visible to people who had already begun asking questions.
The company should have been yours years ago. Your grandfather intended it that way, though certain papers disappeared before his death. The ledger contains enough to prove what was taken, but not enough to reveal who arranged it.
Do not trust the red entries.
Trust the blue.
And when you are ready, ask Stefan what happened in Bellweather.
With all my love,
Mother
Bailey read the letter twice.
Then a third time.
The fire cracked softly.
Somewhere beyond the room, footsteps moved through the corridor, careful and controlled.
“My mother is alive.”
Neither man answered.
Bailey lifted her head.
“My mother is alive.”
“Yes,” Stefan said.
The room tilted, though nothing moved.
Bailey reached for the back of a chair and gripped it.
For nine years, she had visited a grave marked with her mother’s name. She had brought white lilies every spring because Evelyn had once said they made a room feel peaceful. She had stood beside that grave and apologized for not having been a better daughter.
All the while, her mother had been somewhere in the world.
Breathing.
Writing letters.
Keeping copies of Bailey’s work.
“Where is she?”
Stefan’s expression closed.
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I knew where she was until two months ago.”
“What happened two months ago?”
“She stopped contacting me.”
Bailey turned to her father.
“You knew.”
Alaric said nothing.
“You knew she was alive.”
“I knew there was a possibility.”
“The letter is six weeks old.”
“I did not see the letter.”
“But you knew before tonight.”
His silence answered.
Bailey crossed the distance between them before she realized she had moved.
She did not strike him. She did not shout.
She simply stood close enough to see the fine lines around his eyes and the silver beginning at his temples.
“Why?” she asked.
Alaric’s composure faltered.
“You think there is one answer.”
“I think there is a truthful one.”
“She left.”
“She says she left to protect me.”
“That is what she tells herself.”
“Then tell me what you tell yourself.”
The words landed harder than anger.
Alaric looked toward the covered windows.
“When Evelyn began investigating the commission, she became convinced someone inside Smith Shipping was altering manifests. She believed the company was being used to move unregistered cargo through our ports.”
“What kind of cargo?”
“Documents. Money. Occasionally people traveling under false names.”
Bailey absorbed this.
“Did you know?”
“Not at first.”
“And later?”
Alaric’s shoulders lowered.
“Later, I knew enough to understand that asking questions would destroy the company.”
“So you stopped asking.”