Chapter 1
The scream my daughter made cut through the music like broken glass.
I turned so fast my champagne nearly slipped from my hand.
Lily was on the marble floor.
My six-year-old daughter was curled beside the dessert table, both hands covering her head while champagne soaked her curls and streamed down her pale party dress.
For one terrifying second, I thought the liquid running down her face was blood.
Then I saw the shattered bottle.
And Diane.
My mother-in-law was standing above Lily with the broken neck of the champagne bottle still clenched in her hand.
“What did you do?”
My voice came out sharper than I recognized.
I pushed through the frozen guests and dropped beside Lily.
She threw herself against me.
“Mommy!”
Her entire little body trembled.
I checked her forehead, her scalp, her face.
There was already a red swelling near her temple, but I couldn’t see an open cut.
Thank God.
I pulled her tighter against my chest.
“What happened?”
Diane gave an irritated sigh.
Not fear.
Not regret.
Irritation.
“She ran into me.”
I stared up at her.
“She’s six years old.”
“And six is old enough to learn manners.”
A few guests looked away.
Others whispered.
Nobody moved.
Then Ryan appeared.
My husband pushed through the crowd, his tie loosened from hours of entertaining Diane’s wealthy friends.
For one desperate second, relief flooded me.
Ryan would see Lily.
Ryan would see the bottle.
Ryan would finally understand what his mother was capable of.
Instead, his eyes landed on me.
“Emily, stop.”
I blinked.
“Stop what?”
“Making a scene.”
I actually laughed.
It was one short, disbelieving sound.
“Your mother just smashed a bottle against our daughter’s head.”
Diane folded her arms.
“It slipped.”
Lily jerked in my arms.
“No, Mommy.”
Everything went silent.
Even the pianist across the room stopped playing.
I lowered my voice.
“What happened, sweetheart?”
Lily’s wet lashes lifted.
She pointed at Diane.
“Grandma got angry.”
“Why?”
Lily hesitated.
Then she whispered, “Because I hugged Grandpa.”
Ryan went completely still.
So did I.
Frank.
Ryan’s father.
Lily’s grandfather.
A man who had supposedly died three years earlier after suffering a sudden heart attack while traveling overseas.
A man whose funeral I attended.
A man whose coffin I watched being lowered into the ground.
“Sweetheart,” I said carefully, “Grandpa Frank is dead.”
Lily shook her head violently.
“No.”
Diane stepped forward.
“That’s enough.”
I turned toward her.
She looked frightened now.
Not angry.
Frightened.
Lily clutched my dress.
“He lives upstairs.”
My skin prickled.
“Where upstairs?”
“The blue room.”
Ryan’s face drained of color.
I looked at him.
Our eyes met.
And something passed across his face.
Recognition.
Fear.
Maybe guilt.
The blue sitting room was at the far end of Diane’s second floor.
It had been locked since Frank’s funeral.
At least that was what I had been told.
Diane suddenly forced a laugh.
“She’s imagining things. Children do that.”
Lily began crying again.
“I’m not lying!”
“I know,” I whispered.
Diane’s voice hardened.
“Emily, take her home.”
“No.”
Ryan stepped closer.
“Emily.”
I stood slowly, keeping Lily behind me.
“Why does our daughter believe Frank is upstairs?”
Ryan rubbed a hand over his face.
“This isn’t the time.”
“Then when?”
Guests were staring.
Diane hated public embarrassment more than anything in the world.
I could see panic growing behind her polished smile.
“Lily wandered where she shouldn’t have,” she said.
My heart stopped.
“You knew she went upstairs?”
Diane realized her mistake too late.
Ryan closed his eyes.
I felt something cold move through me.
Lily tugged my hand.
“Mommy.”
I turned.
She reached into the pocket of her dress.
Something gold gleamed beneath the chandelier light.
A watch.
An old pocket watch with a scratched lid and a small engraved F on the front.
Diane lunged.
“Give me that!”
I moved Lily behind me.
“Don’t touch her.”
The room erupted in whispers.
But I barely heard them.
Because I knew that watch.
Frank carried it everywhere.
His father had given it to him when he graduated from college.
At Frank’s funeral, Ryan told me the watch had been placed inside the coffin because Frank had wanted to be buried with it.
My fingers shook as I took it from Lily.
I looked at Ryan.
“You said this was buried with him.”
Ryan said nothing.
“Ryan.”
His jaw tightened.
Diane snapped, “This has gone far enough.”
I ignored her.
“Lily, who gave you this?”
My daughter pressed herself against my side.
“The man upstairs.”
“What man?”
She looked toward the staircase.
“The man Grandma says is dead.”
My stomach twisted.
Several guests gasped.
Diane took another step toward us.
“Give me the watch.”
“No.”
“It belongs to me.”
“It belonged to Frank.”
Her face changed.
For the first time since I had known Diane, her perfect control cracked completely.
“Emily, you have no idea what you’re interfering with.”
I stared at her.
“Then explain it.”
Ryan caught my arm.
“We need to leave.”
I ripped myself free.
“Why?”
“Because this isn’t safe.”
Those words chilled me more than anything else.
Not ridiculous.
Not impossible.
Not Lily misunderstood.
Not my father is dead.
This isn’t safe.
I looked toward the staircase.
Then back at my husband.
“What’s in the blue room?”
Ryan swallowed.
Before he could answer, a sound came from somewhere above us.
Three slow knocks.
Everyone heard them.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Diane’s face went white.
Lily whispered against me.
“That’s Grandpa.”
May you like
And suddenly I understood something worse than the impossible truth that Frank might still be alive.
My husband already knew.
