Chapter 12
Elena came to the estate the next day.
She brought Adrian.
I saw the boy from across the library and knew immediately.
My father’s eyes.
Same crooked left eyebrow.
Same habit of standing too straight when nervous.
Adrian looked at me.
“You’re him.”
I almost smiled.
“Apparently.”
Then he looked at Khloe.
“Are you okay?”
Khloe nodded.
“Yes.”
Adrian relaxed slightly.
That told me something Isabella had not.
Elena had not raised him to hate us.
She looked at me.
“She pushed me too.”
The room went silent.
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
“Where?”
“Hospital parking garage.”
Khloe’s hand moved over her belly.
Elena noticed.
“I was six months pregnant.”
My expression hardened.
Same stage.
Same method.
Elena continued.
“Isabella told me Anthony was done with me. Then she shoved me near a stairwell and said nobody would question an accident.”
Victor looked sick.
I turned.
“You knew?”
He did not answer.
Elena did.
“He helped her.”
Khloe looked at him.
My voice became quiet.
“First fall.”
Victor closed his eyes.
Not Khloe’s first fall.
Elena’s.
Seven years earlier.
The phrase was older than any of us realized.
Isabella finally spoke.
“You survived.”
Elena stared.
I went completely still.
There.
No denial.
No apology.
Only irritation that survival had made the cruelty inconvenient.
Elena laughed once.
“That’s what you said then.”
Isabella’s face tightened.
“Stop dramatizing.”
“You put your hands on me while I was pregnant.”
“You were unstable.”
“No.”
Elena’s voice sharpened.
“I was inconvenient.”
I looked at Khloe.
Then Adrian.
Then Isabella.
Seven years apart.
Same method.
Same justification.
Pregnant women connected to Thorne children.
May you like
The phone recordings were not Isabella learning how to stage accidents.
They were Isabella refining something she had already done.
