Chapter 10
I did not return to the staff quarters.
Julian insisted.
Detective Chen agreed.
Celeste had framed me once. She had ordered me to hide my face that night. And now she knew my locket held evidence.
I became a witness before I understood the case.
They placed me in a guest room on the third floor.
The bed was bigger than my entire room in Queens.
I sat on the edge of it and stared at my hands.
Eleven years gone.
One dinner.
One scarf.
One little girl telling the truth.
Ivy knocked softly.
Julian stood behind her.
“She wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said.
I wiped my face quickly.
“I’m okay.”
Ivy gave me the look only children can give.
The one that says adults are bad liars.
She walked in and placed a cookie on the nightstand.
“I saved it from dessert.”
I almost laughed.
After everything, a cookie.
“Thank you.”
She sat beside me.
“Were people mean to you because of Aunt Celeste?”
“Yes.”
“Daddy believed her at first?”
Julian flinched.
I looked at him.
“He didn’t know me.”
Ivy turned to him.
“But now you do.”
Julian’s eyes met mine.
“Now I am learning.”
That answer sat between us.
Quiet.
Honest.
Dangerous in a way kindness can be.
After Ivy left with Beatrice, Julian stayed at the door.
“I owe you more than an apology.”
“You owe me nothing.”
“That is not true.”
I stood.
“I don’t want charity.”
“It wouldn’t be charity.”
“Then what?”
His face tightened.
“Restitution. Justice. Whatever name makes it less insulting.”
I looked away.
“For eleven years, people said my name like it tasted dirty. I don’t know what fixes that.”
He stepped closer, then stopped.
“Maybe nothing fixes it. But truth can start.”
Before I could answer, Detective Chen called.
The microfilm had been processed.
May you like
It showed Vivienne Vale on the balcony the night she died.
And Celeste was standing behind her.
