Chapter 10
I removed every Price instruction from the estate by midnight.
No security access.
No staff authority.
No event planning.
No renovation privileges.
Miles called it a hostile move.
I almost admired the vocabulary.
“You aimed a machine at my daughter.”
“That was Tove—”
I stared.
Wrong name.
He stopped.
Fear makes people pull names from old habits.
Interesting.
“Who is Tove?”
Silence.
Evelyn looked at him.
He closed his eyes.
Another sister.
Older.
The one who raised Evelyn and Miles after their mother died.
Not important because she was a mastermind.
Important because she created the family philosophy.
Children should never show weakness.
Need makes you replaceable.
Attention belongs to whoever performs best.
It explained Evelyn.
It did not excuse her.
I looked at Miles.
“You were raised this way.”
He nodded reluctantly.
“And survived.”
“Yes.”
“There it is.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“The word people use when they want survival to sound like proof.”
Silence.
I thought of Hazel on the service line.
Arms over her face.
Waiting for the next ball.
Miles had survived something similar emotionally and decided the correct lesson was replication.
I shook my head.
“You inherited cruelty and called it resilience.”
That was the first time Evelyn cried.
May you like
Not from losing the engagement.
From recognition.
