Still, I jumped.
Daniel heard my breath.
“Get out of that house.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“Today.”
“Good.”
Before ending the call, he said something strange.
“Whatever is in those emails, don’t let it change what you know happened to you.”
I stared at the dead phone after he disconnected.
I did not understand.
At twelve-twenty-six, Victoria arrived.
She was never early.
She was never late.
Her black Mercedes stopped beneath the front portico at exactly twelve twenty-six, giving the driver four minutes to open her door and retrieve her things before twelve-thirty.
I watched from the upstairs window.
The driver removed one crocodile handbag.
Then a leather folio.
Then two large suitcases.
My pulse increased.
She had actually brought luggage.
Not symbolic luggage.
Not an overnight bag.
Two full-sized cases.
Victoria Holloway intended to enter my house at lunch and never leave.
I had applied the makeup.
Mostly.
The bruise beneath my eye was reduced but not erased.
I wanted evidence photographs to remain accurate, and some stubborn part of me refused to turn Adrian’s violence into perfect skin for his mother’s comfort.
When I reached the foyer, Adrian was already opening the door.
“Mother.”
Victoria kissed both his cheeks.
Then she saw me.
Her eyes stopped beneath my left eye for less than one second.
She understood immediately.
Women always do.
Especially women who have spent their lives pretending not to see certain things.
“What happened to your face?”
I waited.
Adrian answered for me.
“She walked into the bathroom cabinet.”
Victoria looked directly at him.
Then at me.
There was a moment.
Small.
Almost invisible.
I thought she might challenge him.
Instead she smiled.
“You’ve always been a little careless, Eleanor.”
There it was.
A door closing.
I smiled too.
“Apparently.”
Lunch was served in the sunroom.
Victoria ate grilled salmon and spoke as if the previous evening’s refusal had never happened.
“I’ve decided the blue room will work for my sitting room.”
Adrian nodded.
“And we’ll move the antique desk from the library upstairs.”
“My father’s desk?”
Victoria dabbed her mouth.
