CHAPTER 4 – The Price of Truth
The police did not arrive that night.
The attorney explained that the evidence would be submitted in the morning, that Rosalie would be served with an injunction, and that the financial investigation would proceed under the proper authority. The words were calm, almost ordinary.
Rosalie seemed to hate that most of all.
She had expected shouting. She had expected Charles to collapse, Luke to beg, Hannah to cry. She had built her power around the certainty that other people’s emotions would shield her from consequences.
Instead, the room became quiet.
A police officer eventually entered to escort her out after the attorney made the necessary call. Rosalie refused her coat. She refused Martin’s offer to bring her purse. She refused to look at Hannah.
At the doorway, she stopped beside Luke.
“You will come back,” she said.
Luke stood still.
“You always come back.”
He looked at her face, at the proud mouth that had taught him love meant obedience, at the eyes that had watched him become a man and still treated him like a frightened boy.
“I am not coming back tonight,” he said.
Rosalie waited.
“Or tomorrow.”
Her expression hardened. “You will regret this.”
“I already regret what I allowed.”
She stepped outside.
The door closed behind her.
For several seconds, no one moved.
Then Charles sat down.
The strength left him so quickly that Hannah reached for the chair, thinking he might fall. He caught his breath and pressed one hand against his chest.
Luke moved toward him.
Charles raised his other hand. “Give me a moment.”
Luke stopped.
Hannah stood across from Charles with Lucía’s letter still in her hands. Her anger had not vanished. It had changed shape. It no longer burned like fire. It sat inside her like a stone.
“Why did you ask me to cook the soup?” she said.
Charles looked up.
“Because you wanted a final meal?”
“No.”
