Chapter 8
Grace opened her eyes on the fourth day.
Dark.
Tiny.
Unfocused.
Perfect.
I had my hand inside the incubator, one finger resting against her palm.
Her fingers curled around me.
Paula laughed softly.
“She knows who showed up.”
Those words settled inside me.
Who showed up.
That was what family was.
Not blood.
Not last names.
Not portraits in vineyard halls.
Showing up.
Diana visited that afternoon with a stuffed rabbit and a file folder.
She held up the rabbit first.
“Personal.”
Then the folder.
“Professional.”
I smiled for the first time in days.
“Rabbit first.”
She placed it beside my chair.
Then her face shifted.
Professional won.
“Julian is negotiating.”
I looked at Grace.
“With prosecutors?”
“Yes.”
“Already?”
“They have him on wire fraud, conspiracy, obstruction, falsified records, and attempted framing of a state investigator.”
I closed my eyes.
My husband.
My child’s father.
The man who once brought me soup when I had the flu.
The man who kissed my forehead on our wedding day.
The man who stood outside a bathroom while his mother locked me inside.
“What does he want?”
“Reduced exposure if he cooperates against Eleanor and Seraphina.”
“Will he?”
Diana sat beside me.
“He already started.”
The betrayal inside that family had begun eating itself.
I should have felt satisfied.
Instead, I felt tired.
“What about Seraphina?”
“She claims the finance accounts were ceremonial.”
“Ceremonial?”
Diana’s mouth twitched.
“She says she signed what her mother placed in front of her.”
“That might actually be true.”
“Maybe. But she also used one shell company to pay for the wedding gown.”
I looked up.
“The dress?”
“Two hundred and forty thousand dollars routed through a vineyard equipment vendor.”
I stared.
Then laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
Grace stirred.
“Sorry, baby,” I whispered.
Diana smiled.
“She’ll appreciate financial irony one day.”
That evening, Julian requested to see Grace.
I said no.
Not because I wanted to punish him.
Because I could not let him stand beside her incubator while I was still learning to breathe.
Denise said that was legally acceptable.
Dr. Patel said stress was harming my recovery.
Paula said nothing, but brought me extra tea.
At midnight, I woke to my phone vibrating.
Unknown number.
I ignored it.
Then a message appeared.
Audrey, it’s Seraphina. Please. We need to talk before Mom destroys all of us.
I stared at the screen.
Another message.
Julian is lying. He knew more than he’s saying, but not everything. Mom kept another ledger.
Then a photo arrived.
A silver flash drive resting in someone’s palm.
My pulse jumped.
Where are you? I texted.
Her reply came instantly.
Parking garage. Hospital. Level three. Alone.
I called Diana.
She answered on the first ring.
“What’s wrong?”
“Seraphina is here.”
Diana cursed under her breath.
“Do not go to her.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“I know. That was for my blood pressure.”
Within seven minutes, Diana and two agents were in my room.
Within fifteen, they found Seraphina in the garage.
She was barefoot under her designer coat.
Her wedding manicure chipped.
Mascara streaked down her face.
Still in the ruins of her reception hairstyle.
When they brought her upstairs to a private waiting room, she looked at me through the glass wall.
For the first time since I had known her, Seraphina Sterling did not look rich.
May you like
She looked terrified.
And she was holding the flash drive like it could save her life.
