Chapter 2
Victor denied knowing Elena before William even finished the question.
That was his first mistake.
William had not yet accused him.
“I managed this restaurant,” Victor said, struggling upright. “I meet hundreds of people.”
Emma tightened her arms around Noah.
“You knew her.”
Victor looked at the child with open irritation.
“No, sweetheart. You’re confused.”
Emma’s face changed.
William noticed immediately.
Not confusion.
Fear.
He stepped between them.
“Don’t call her sweetheart.”
Victor’s mouth closed.
William turned toward Emma.
“When did you see him with your mother?”
She thought carefully.
“At our old house.”
“How many times?”
“A lot.”
Victor laughed.
“She was a toddler.”
Emma looked at him.
“You wore the red tie.”
Victor froze.
William slowly turned.
Victor looked down at his current dark tie as though color itself had betrayed him.
Emma continued.
“You always brought Uncle Damian.”
Damian, still half trapped beneath the trolley, stopped trying to stand.
William looked at both brothers.
“You visited my sister.”
Victor’s expression hardened.
“She wasn’t your sister anymore.”
The words came out before he could catch them.
William’s face became still.
“What did you say?”
Victor realized the mistake.
Too late.
He tried to recover.
“I meant she left the Parker family.”
“No.”
William stepped closer.
“You said it like someone who heard that sentence before.”
Victor looked away.
William knew exactly who used to say it.
His father.
Vincent Parker had despised Elena’s marriage to Daniel Reynolds. He called Daniel beneath the family. Called Elena ungrateful. Called her dead to them long before she actually died.
William had believed the estrangement ended there.
Apparently someone had carried it further.
Emma tugged William’s sleeve.
He looked down.
“My mom had another picture.”
“Where?”
“She hid it.”
Victor’s face changed again.
William saw that too.
“Where did she hide it?”
Emma shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Victor exhaled.
Relief.
Small.
But visible.
William looked at him.
Whatever Elena had hidden, Victor was afraid Emma might still find it.
May you like
That meant the photograph in William’s hand was not the secret.
It was the map toward one.
