Chapter 3
Lena yanked the heavy oak door open, the sudden influx of light revealing the cramped, windowless pantry. Sitting on the cold tile floor, huddled between towering shelves of canned goods and dry pasta, was six-year-old Noel Wexler.
The boy wore a cream shirt, a dark waistcoat, and slightly creased trousers. His polished shoes were scuffed from kicking at the door. His fair, rosy cheeks were stained with tears, his chest heaving with panicked, ragged breaths.
"Oh, Noel," Lena breathed, dropping instantly to her knees.
Noel scrambled forward, throwing his small arms around her neck. He buried his face in the crisp white collar of her maid dress, sobbing uncontrollably. Lena wrapped her arms tightly around his trembling frame, pulling his small body against her chest. She smoothed his dark hair, rocking him gently back and forth on the cold tile.
"I've got you," Lena whispered, her own tears threatening to spill as she felt the sheer terror radiating from the child. "You're safe now. I'm right here."
"She locked me in," Noel hiccuped, his small fingers gripping the fabric of her black dress as if his life depended on it. "She said I was being bad."
Lena’s heart plummeted into her stomach. Her expressive brows lifted in horror. "Who, sweetie? Who locked you in?"
Noel pulled back slightly, his tear-filled eyes looking up into hers. "Evelina. She said I was ruining the party. She told me to stay in the dark until I learned how to smile."
A wave of absolute, unadulterated fury washed over Lena. Evelina Shaw, the beautiful, aristocratic woman currently entertaining the most dangerous men in the country, had deliberately locked a grieving six-year-old child in a lightless closet simply because his melancholy did not fit her perfect aesthetic.
"Are you hurt anywhere?" Lena asked urgently, checking his arms and face.
"No," Noel sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. "But I don't want to go back out there. I want to stay with you."
"We can't stay here, Noel," Lena said, her voice firming with sudden, desperate resolve. "We have to go to your father. He needs to know what happened."
"She said Daddy wouldn't care," Noel whispered, his lower lip trembling.
"Your father loves you more than anything in this world," Lena promised fiercely, standing up and taking his small hand in hers. "Come with me. We are going to the dining room right now."
May you like
"Will you hold my hand?" Noel asked, his voice fragile.
"I won't let go," Lena swore. She guided the exhausted, frightened child out of the kitchens and toward the warm, golden light of the grand dining hall, knowing that what she was about to do could very well cost her her life.
