Chapter 16
Victoria’s apology came eight months later.
Not to me.
To Isabella.
Through a letter she could read when older.
That was better.
The first line said:
I treated your need for your father as weakness because I was taught that needing anyone made a Bellandi vulnerable.
For once, accurate.
Then:
I used the word tradition to avoid admitting that I wanted control.
Better.
No request for forgiveness.
Better still.
I stored the letter.
Not in the vault.
In Isabella’s memory box with Elena’s letters.
She could decide later whether it mattered.
Marcus never wrote one.
He sent the collar back.
I almost threw it away.
Then Isabella saw it.
She touched the bell.
Did not flinch.
That surprised me.
“What do you want to do with it?”
She thought.
“Bell mine?”
“Yes.”
“The collar?”
She made a face.
May you like
“No.”
Fair.
