windows and rolled away like distant surf. The sound pulled a memory through him with a force that left his knees weak: blue lights on wet stone, policemen speaking too gently, the boathouse empty except for rain, the ocean swallowing every version of the night he had never been able to verify.
Serena set down her glass with a neat click. This is ridiculous. She was punished and now she’s inventing things. You know how children are with grief.
Elias rose with Poppy in his arms.
He stared at Serena until her posture changed almost imperceptibly. One shoulder stiffened. One hand left the piano.
Rosa, he called.
The housekeeper appeared at the door almost immediately, which meant she had been close enough to hear. Her face lost color when she saw Poppy clinging to him.
Please take her to the kitchen, Elias said. Stay with her. Do not leave her alone with anyone.
Serena turned. You are overreacting.
Rosa stepped forward with open arms. Poppy hesitated, then looked to her father.
I’ll come to you in a minute, Elias said. I promise.
Only then did she let go.
As Rosa led her away, the sleeve of Poppy’s dress rode up. On the inside of her wrist, just below the cuff, Elias saw faint purple half-moons shaped like fingertips.
Something in him became very quiet.
Serena saw his eyes land there. If you’re about to make a scandal out of a child being guided by the arm—
What did she take from your room? he asked.
Serena blinked. What?
You said she went into your room. What did she take?
A lipstick. It’s already back.
Then show me.
I don’t answer to interrogations in my own home.
He let the silence answer for him. Then he turned and walked out before anger could outrun judgment.
In the kitchen, Poppy sat wrapped in a blanket at the banquette, a mug of warm milk untouched beside her. Rosa stood at the counter with both hands braced against the stone, guilt written across her face.
Sir, she said before he spoke, I tried calling you twice this month. Mrs. Vale said household anxieties were no reason to disturb your trip. After that she told me if I frightened you with nonsense again, I could pack my things.
Where is Lorna? Elias asked. Lorna had been Poppy’s nanny since infancy.
Gone. Mrs. Vale dismissed her last week. Said she was encouraging weakness.
Elias looked at his daughter. Tell me everything.
Poppy kept her gaze on the milk. Serena says big girls don’t need night-lights. She makes me sit on the floor in Mama’s wardrobe because it smells like her. Then she asks about the brass key with the bird on top. Sometimes she asks nice. Sometimes she squeezes. Once she put Mama’s blue scarf over the rabbit lamp so the room looked like underwater.
Rosa made a small sound and covered her mouth.
Why didn’t you tell me? Elias asked, and hated how broken it sounded.
Poppy looked up at him with clear, exhausted honesty. She said if I said anything, you wouldn’t believe me because you love her when people are watching.
The sentence went through him without mercy because it was close enough to the truth to hurt. He had loved Serena’s steadiness,
