Chapter 8: The Morning After
The police arrived at eleven forty-seven.
Lily was in the nursery when she heard the cars on the gravel drive.
She didn't go downstairs.
She sat in the rocking chair with Ethan on her lap and listened to the sounds of the house — voices, footsteps, a door, then quiet, then more footsteps — and she held the baby and waited.
Victor came up at half past midnight.
He knocked before he opened the door, which he had never done before.
Lily noticed it.
He looked at Ethan first.
The baby was asleep, finally deeply, his breathing slow and even.
"How is he?" Victor asked.
"Settled," Lily said.
"He had a bottle.
He went down easily."
Victor nodded.
He leaned against the doorframe.
He looked like a man who had run a very long distance and was only now allowing himself to stop.
"She's gone," he said.
"Paul Greer came back in and advised her to cooperate.
She gave a full statement.
Owen Harlan was picked up at his apartment an hour ago — Daniel had already contacted the authorities before Serena finished talking."
Lily looked down at Ethan's face.
"What happens now?"
"The medical records are being reviewed.
There will be an investigation.
Daniel says the evidence is strong." He paused.
"The fracture.
The recordings.
Marcus's account of the missing forty minutes.
Rosa's testimony about the cold room.
All of it."
"And Serena?"
"She won't be coming back to this house."
Lily nodded slowly.
"Lily." Victor's voice changed.
"I need to ask you something."
She looked up.
"When you started recording — when you understood what was happening — why didn't you leave?
You could have left.
You could have reported it to someone and walked away."
Lily looked at Ethan.
His fist was curled loosely beside his cheek.
His lashes were dark against his skin.
"Because she would have found a way to make it my word against hers," she said.
"And because he couldn't leave."
Victor was quiet for a moment.
"I'm going to increase your salary," he said.
"Significantly.
And I'm going to ask you — if you're willing — to stay.
Not as an employee.
As someone this family trusts."
Lily looked at him.
"I'm already staying, Mr.
Blackwood."
"Victor," he said.
"Please."
She almost smiled.
"Victor."
He straightened.
"Get some sleep.
I'll sit with him."
"You don't have to—"
"I know." He crossed the room and pulled the second chair close to the crib.
"I want to."
Lily stood carefully, transferring Ethan to the crib without waking him.
She tucked the blanket.
She stepped back.
Victor sat in the chair beside his son.
He didn't take out his phone.
He didn't look at anything else.
He just sat there in the low light, watching Ethan breathe.
Lily paused at the door.
"He always felt safe with you," she said quietly.
"Even when you weren't here.
He'd hear your voice on the phone and go still.
Like he was listening."
Victor didn't turn around.
But his hand moved to the rail of the crib.
Gently.
Just resting there.
"Goodnight, Lily," he said.
She pulled the door closed behind her.
In the hallway, she leaned against the wall for a moment.
The house was quiet.
The cars were gone from the drive.
Somewhere below, Rosa was making tea — Lily could smell it faintly, rising through the old house.
May you like
She pushed off the wall and walked toward the stairs.
Behind the nursery door, Victor Blackwood sat beside his son and didn't move until morning.
