Chapter 10
Ashton was easier.
His motive had less love inside it.
He wanted position.
The guardianship council would have placed security under him.
He had spent years resenting Rafe.
“Your bodyguard outranks me.”
“Because he earned it.”
“I’m blood.”
There.
The sentence families use when merit becomes inconvenient.
I removed Ashton from every Vale operational role that day.
No command.
No estate access without invitation.
No unsupervised contact with Elsie.
He called it exile.
I called it consequence.
Nadine received something different.
She lost automatic access to the house.
No walking in.
No instructing staff.
No taking Elsie anywhere.
Visits only if I approved and, increasingly, if Elsie wanted them.
My aunt looked horrified.
“I’m fifty-eight years old. You’re making me ask permission to see my niece?”
“My daughter.”
Silence.
That was the correction.
Relationships overlap.
Authority does not.
Elise asked for nothing.
That impressed me.
No room.
No title.
No money.
She wanted Marina’s letters copied.
And a chance, eventually, to know Elsie openly.
I agreed to the first.
The second belonged partly to my daughter.
When I told Elsie that “Ellie” was actually her aunt, she stared at me.
“Not Mommy?”
“No.”
“Looks Mommy.”
“A little.”
“Sings Mommy.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they were sisters.”
Elsie thought for a long time.
Then:
“Can she still sing?”
My throat tightened.
“Yes.”
Children can dismantle adult mythology with one practical question.
Elise was not Marina.
May you like
Did not need to be.
The song did not belong exclusively to death.
