“The originals are in a safe deposit box.”
Rosalie’s face changed.
Charles saw it.
“There,” he said. “That look is why I kept them.”
CHAPTER 3 – What Silence Cost
The room seemed to narrow around Rosalie.
She looked at the guests, searching for an ally. Her older brother was dead. Her closest friends had spent years praising her generosity. Martin stood behind Gemma, pale and rigid. Luke had moved beside Hannah, though she still held herself away from him.
No one stepped toward Rosalie.
“You planned this,” she said to Charles.
“I planned to tell the truth.”
“On my birthday?”
“It is my birthday.”
“You invited her here to humiliate me.”
Hannah folded Lucía’s letter along its old creases. “You humiliated yourself.”
Rosalie’s hand flew toward her.
Luke caught it before it reached Hannah.
His grip was firm but careful. “Do not touch my wife.”
Rosalie stared at his hand around her wrist.
For twelve years, Luke had watched Hannah endure his mother’s cruelty and called his silence patience. Now his expression held something harsher than anger. It was recognition.
He released Rosalie as though her skin had burned him.
“You knew about the property,” Hannah said to Charles.
“Yes.”
“For twelve years.”
“Yes.”
“You let me work for her.”
Charles looked at the apron on the floor. “I did.”
“You let her call my mother a thief.”
“I did.”
“You let Luke tell me he would speak to her later.”
Luke flinched.
