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“No.”
I turn toward her fully. “Listen to me.”
“I am.”
“No.” I clamp my hands down on her shoulders. “Listen like your life depends on it.”
She goes still.
“Because it does,” I say. “If my father knows Audrey is dead before I control the story, you are the easiest person to blame. Not me. Not Hazel. You.”
Her breath catches.
“You’re the maid. You were beneath Audrey. You had tension with her. You have no family power behind you. No protection except me.” My voice hardens. “And if I’m in the middle of cleaning this up, I may not be fast enough.”
She looks down.
“If he gets to you first, he’ll punish you in a way I can’t fix.”
Her eyes close.
I lean closer.
“Ella.”
She opens them.
“Go to the safe house. Please. I can’t let him…” I shake my head. “Just go. Please.”
A tear slips down her cheek. She wipes it away angrily. “I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I hate you for asking.”
“I know.”
“I’m scared you won’t come.”
The words cut me open. For the first time tonight, I let myself touch her lovingly. Just one hand against her cheek.
Her skin is cold.
“I will come,” I say.
I have no right to promise her that, but I do it anyway. Because she needs it. Because I need it.
She leans into my palm for one second. “Fine,” she says.
We head back and move through the tunnel in silence. Every step toward the house feels wrong. The passage seems narrower now.
I think of the man in the chair.
I think of Hazel giving birth to a child my father may have killed.
I won’t let him take Ella.
When we reach the inner door, I stop.
