Dominic pressed his forehead against his son’s hair for one unguarded second.
Behind him, Victor began walking toward the hallway.
“Stay where you are,” Dominic said.
His brother stopped.
“You cannot possibly believe I would hurt him.”
“I haven’t accused you of anything.”
“Your face has.”
The guard at the door shifted aside for the estate’s security manager, Daniel Reed. Daniel carried a tablet, his expression stripped of its usual courteous reserve.
“The cold-room camera was disconnected at the local panel,” he told Dominic. “The access log shows Anna’s staff card.”
Every face nearby turned.
Anna’s hand went to her empty apron pocket.
“My card was on the kitchen counter. Beside Lily’s juice.”
Victor exhaled as if something painful had finally become clear.
“Then perhaps we ought to stop making assumptions about family.”
Anna stared at him. Six years of quiet work seemed suddenly useless: the early mornings, the meals carried upstairs when Ethan was ill, the nights she had stayed because Dominic was away.
“My daughter stopped him eating it.”
“Or acted when she was told to,” Victor replied.
Ethan stood despite the doctor’s restraining hand.
“She didn’t.”
Dominic lifted his palm, silencing the room before anyone else could speak.
“Daniel, preserve every log. Check the other cameras. Anna and Lily stay with my son.”
He looked directly at Anna.
“You are not under arrest. Nobody is taking your daughter.”
Only then did she realize what her arms had been doing. She had gathered Lily so tightly against her that the child’s dress had twisted beneath her chin.
A dull thump came from behind the service door.
Then a woman’s voice, thin and breathless.
“Please.”
Victor moved first.
He shoved the door open, slipped through, and slammed it behind him. Daniel lunged after him, but a bolt struck home on the other side.
The ballroom erupted into movement.
Dominic’s voice cut through it.
“Take the children to the library. Now.”
Anna lifted Lily. Ethan caught the back of her sleeve.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.”
She took his hand, and the doctor walked beside them while a guard cleared the route. At the library entrance, Ethan looked back once. Dominic was standing at the locked door, absolutely still.
The service corridor smelled of cold butter and extinguished candles. Through its narrow wired-glass window, Dominic could see Emily pressed against the wall.
Victor held a kitchen knife beneath her jaw.
Her wrist was tied with a length of electrical cable. One sleeve was torn at the shoulder.
“Open the delivery gate,” Victor said.
