Chapter 9 She tried to kill our daughter

Upstairs, Regina stood at the window of Emma's room, still thinking about the way Asher had replaced Eleanor's piano within the hour. Losing the exhibition had wounded her pride; watching Eleanor remain mistress of this house was worse.

At last she sat down on the edge of Emma's bed and began turning the problem over from every angle.

Checks and gifts would not separate them. Asher spent money whenever he wanted a problem silenced, and Eleanor had learned to endure it. Regina needed to strike at something money could not smooth over.

If Eleanor could be made to look cruel, jealous, or dangerous to Emma, Asher would eventually have to choose his daughter. And once he sent Eleanor away, Regina could step back into the place she believed had always belonged to her.

Emma saw the look on her mother's face and slipped closer, trying to comfort her. "Mom, don't be upset. Daddy will fix the exhibition. He always fixes everything."

Regina stared at the carpet, slowly turning the bracelet on her wrist, her mind somewhere else entirely.

"Mom," Emma tried again.

"Mm." Regina looked at her. Then, out of nowhere: "Emma. What does Eleanor care about most?"

Emma thought about it. "A necklace. Whenever she's having a hard time she takes it out and holds it. She told me her mom left it to her."

Regina's eyes sharpened. She stood, took Emma's hand and walked straight down the hall into Eleanor's bedroom.

She pulled the vanity drawer open and dug through it until she found a small dark velvet pouch and tipped it into her palm. A thin gold chain with a small pearl pendant. Simple. Not expensive. On the back of the clasp, two initials had been engraved: E.B.

"Perfect." Regina closed her hand around it. "I'll break it in front of her. Let's see how composed she is after that."

Emma looked at the necklace in her mother's hand. Then at her mother's face.

"Mom," she said quietly. "Maybe don't."

Regina ignored her and headed for the door.

"Mom." Emma caught her sleeve. "That necklace, her mom gave it to her before she died. Her mom is gone."

She hesitated, and her voice dropped. "When you were away all those years, I missed you every single day. You left a hair clip behind and I kept it under my pillow. I had to look at it every night before I could fall asleep."

She looked up. "I know what it feels like to miss someone and only have one small thing left of them. Mom, please. Just for me. Put it back."

Regina stopped. She looked down at her.

Then she laughed, short and cold, and took her sleeve out of Emma's hand. "You're defending her? She is a nanny, Emma. A stand-in. Get that through your head, and don't you ever lecture me."

Emma stepped back, staring at the face in front of her, cold and unfamiliar, and something inside her went strange and quiet.

Eleanor was strict with her sometimes. Eleanor had never once spoken to her like that. Eleanor had never once looked at her like that.

Regina turned away and walked out to the top of the staircase. Below her, in the living room, Eleanor was just closing the cabinet door. Regina raised her arm, the necklace swinging from her fingers, ready to let it fall onto the marble and watch it break.

Emma ran down the hall after her and lunged for her hand. "Let it go, Mom, put it down—"

"Let go of me."

Regina shoved her. Hard.

Emma's feet came off the step. Her body tipped backward, and she went down the full length of the staircase.

"Emma!"

She landed at the bottom in a heap and her forehead caught the sharp edge of the last step. Blood came up immediately, running down her small pale face and spreading across the floor. She didn't move.

Eleanor was across the room before she knew she had moved. She dropped to her knees and pressed both hands over the wound, and the blood soaked through her fingers instantly, into her sleeves, up to her wrists. The cut on her palm opened again and she never felt it.

Eight years of fevers and scraped knees and school nurses, and she had never seen this much blood come out of this child.

"Emma. Emma, look at me. Emma!"

The front door opened.

Asher walked in and stopped where he stood.

He saw the blood on the floor. He saw his daughter unconscious on the marble. He saw his wife kneeling over her with both hands red to the wrist. He saw Regina at the top of the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, Regina stood with her hand still out in front of her. For one full second there was nothing on her face at all.

Then she looked at Asher standing in the doorway, and her face changed.

Before he could speak, she was coming down the stairs, fast, one hand on the rail.

Her eyes were wet by the time she reached the bottom, and her voice broke in exactly the right place. "Asher. Thank God you're here. Emma only wanted to see the necklace, and this woman pushed her down the stairs. She could have killed her. She tried to kill our daughter."