Chapter 2: The Envelope She Never Opened
Nathan didn't move toward Victoria.
He moved toward Grace.
He crouched down on the kitchen floor, his expensive suit touching the cold tile, and looked at Lily.
Really looked at her.
The same dark eyes.
The same small crease above the brow when she was frightened.
He had seen that face every morning in the mirror for thirty-four years.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice barely holding.
Lily shook her head slowly, still clinging to Grace's uniform.
Nathan stood and turned to Victoria.
His voice was quiet.
That was worse than shouting.
"You raised that stick at a four-year-old."
Victoria's composure snapped back into place like a mask.
"Nathan, she was trying to take something that doesn't belong to her.
I was protecting us."
"Protecting us." He repeated it like the words had no meaning.
"She's nobody," Victoria said.
"A maid.
Whatever she told you—"
"She didn't tell me anything." Nathan's jaw tightened.
"Lily did."
Victoria went still.
Grace pressed her hand against her injured shoulder and forced herself upright.
"There's something else, Nathan." Her voice was steady despite the pain.
"The envelope your attorney gave you — your father sent me one too.
Five years ago.
I never opened it."
She reached into the front pocket of her uniform and placed a small, worn envelope on the kitchen counter.
Victoria's eyes locked onto it.
The color left her face for the second time.
"Don't," Victoria whispered.
The word came out like a warning.
May you like
Or a plea.
Nathan reached for the envelope.
