Had he vanished?
Or had I invented him because I needed to believe love could survive anything?
Mr. Meyers turned to one of the officers. “Please escort Mr. Carter and Ms. Reed to collect only verified personal belongings from the main-floor office and guest room. Nothing else leaves the residence without Mrs. Carter’s approval.”
Vanessa looked at Daniel with desperation. “Daniel, do something.”
He stared at the house behind me.
And then, strangely, his fear returned.
Not because he was losing the home.
Because he was afraid of what was inside it.
My stomach tightened.
“What did you do?” I asked.
Daniel’s jaw worked. “Emily, listen to me carefully. There are things Margaret never understood. She liked to interfere.”
“My aunt protected me.”
“She controlled you,” he shot back. “Even from the grave.”
Mr. Meyers closed his folder with a quiet snap. “That will be enough.”
But Daniel leaned closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “Do not go to Whitmore Tower.”
A chill ran along my arms.
“Why?”
He looked past me toward the children, then back again. His eyes were not pleading exactly. They were warning.
“Because Margaret didn’t leave you a gift,” he whispered. “She left you a trap.”
Before I could ask what he meant, the security officer guided him toward the front door.
Vanessa followed, unsteady in her expensive heels.
As she passed me, I held out my hand.
“My earrings.”
Her lips parted.
For a moment, I thought she might refuse. Then she removed them slowly and placed them in my palm.
They were still warm.
I closed my fingers around them.
Vanessa looked suddenly younger without them. Less glamorous. More frightened.
“I didn’t know everything,” she whispered.
Daniel turned sharply from the doorway. “Vanessa.”
She dropped her gaze and hurried inside after him.
I watched them disappear into my house.
Noah tugged my sleeve. “Mom?”
I looked down.
His eyes were huge. “What’s a trap?”
I swallowed.
Before I could answer, Mr. Meyers stepped gently beside us. “Mrs. Carter, may I suggest we let the children sit somewhere calm? My car is available, or perhaps the backyard?”
“The backyard,” I said automatically.
The backyard still felt safe.
The three of us walked around the side gate while the officers remained at the front. My legs felt strangely hollow, as if each step had to be remembered.
