Chapter 5

[Elara]

My fingers tighten around the phone as it rings. Finally, Gwen answers. “Hello, Mrs. Blackwood. Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, my eyes on the school gates. “I just need you to watch Cora tonight. I’ll be there to pick her up soon, but I can’t do this alone.”

“I’ve got it covered,” Gwen says cheerfully. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Blackwood. I’ll take good care of her.”

I exhale slowly, feeling some of the tension in my shoulders ease. “Thank you. Make sure she eats properly and doesn’t get too excited. Maybe just a movie or some quiet games tonight.”

“No problem. I even brought a few homemade snacks for her,” Gwen adds. “She’ll be fine. Go take care of what you need to.”

Gwen Gold is a college student I often contact when I need someone to watch over Cora in my absence. Although several maids and helpers around the house could do the same job, Cora feels far more comfortable with Gwen. Ever since Cora turned three, Gwen has been an important part of her life.

I glance at the school gates and spot Cora rushing toward me, her small bag bouncing with each step. Her bright smile momentarily melts my worry.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I greet, kneeling to hug her tightly. “How was your day?”

“We had a handwriting competition!” she chirps proudly, waving her certificate. “I got first place! Are you proud of me, Mommy?”

My chest swells with love and pride. “Of course I am! My sweet angel always makes me proud.”

She giggles and kisses me on the cheek. “Mommy, let’s go celebrate. I want the chocolate milkshake you make.”

I smile, standing up and taking her hand. “Chocolate milkshake it is—but only if you eat something first.”

“I promise! I’ll even eat the broccoli if it makes the milkshake extra chocolatey.”

“Deal.”

Once we reach home, Cora runs off to her room to change while I prepare her lunch in the kitchen. The routine gives me a moment to steady my mind.

Tonight, I have to see Damon. He needs to know about Cora, no matter how indifferent he’s been.

After finishing, I call Gwen to confirm. “Hi dear, can you stay tonight? Dinner at the Blackwood residence, I might be late.”

“Of course,” she says without hesitation. “I’ll be there by six. Cora and I will have fun, don’t worry.”

Relief washes over me. I know she will be safe—but the thought of leaving her, even briefly, gnaws at me.

“Thank you.”

———

The drive to the Blackwood residence takes an hour. During that time, I try multiple times to call Damon, but—as expected—he doesn’t answer. This time, though, it might not be because of his indifference toward me. It’s probably because of one of the major rules set by his grandparents: no phones during meals.

I check the time once again. It’s almost time for dinner. Hopefully, I can talk to Damon without being seen by anyone. If I did, it would be a little harder for me to explain to Damon afterward.

When the car pulls up, the guards at the entrance greet me.

“Is Damon here?” I ask one of them.

He nods. “Sir is inside with everyone. They are all gathered in the main hall.”

Main hall. That means they are all probably done with dinner.

Good thing. Now Damon will probably be able to spare me some minutes.

“Ask him to meet me at the back lawn. Tell him it’s urgent.”

He nods and then leaves.

I, on the other hand, take the long route, one that avoids the main hall, and head straight for the back lawn.

I’m passing by one of the study room windows when I hear Hannah’s familiar voice.

“Do you think he’ll actually do it?” she says, her tone tight with nerves.

“He will,” comes another voice—sharp, commanding. Beatrice. I’d recognize Damon’s mother anywhere. “He’s never been able to refuse me.”

A pause. Then Hannah again, lower this time. “But… what about them? They seemed so upset just now. If they find out—”

“Let them.” Beatrice’s voice turns cold. “They’ve meddled long enough. None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for that woman and her child.”

I freeze. That woman? Her child?

“Madam Blackwood…” Hannah’s voice trembles. “She’s still my sister.”

“Your sister,” Beatrice repeats, almost scoffing. “But you, at least, have given this family something they can be proud of.”

Something scrapes lightly against the desk inside, and I miss a few words. Then—

“…and once it’s done, nothing will stand between you, Damon, and what should’ve been yours from the start.”

There’s a soft laugh.

Then Hannah’s hesitant whisper: “And… the papers?”

“Leave those to me,” Beatrice replies, her voice fading as they move toward the door.

I stand there, pulse hammering, the last fragments of their conversation echoing in my head—papers, Damon, her child…

It takes me a moment to realize someone’s behind me.

“What the hell are you doing here?”