Maxwell looked at Julian.
His uncle adjusted his silver pocket square.
“A disputed appraisal.”
“You were selling the originals,” Gerald said.
“Be careful.”
“No.” The lawyer’s voice shook, but he held Julian’s gaze. “I have been careful all my life. Look what it made me.”
Gabriel had intended to tell Arthur.
Before he could, Julian accused him of theft.
A valuable bow appeared in Gabriel’s workshop. Police searched his home. His customers vanished almost overnight.
“He said the truth would settle it,” Eleanor whispered. “He believed that.”
She stopped, gathering strength.
“Then Julian offered to withdraw the accusation. He wanted Gabriel to come to the estate with his evidence.”
“With you?” Maxwell asked.
“With me. And the baby.”
Elena looked toward the drawn curtains.
Rain ticked against the glass.
She had always disliked that sound in unfamiliar rooms.
“Why bring a baby?”
“Because we were leaving afterward. Samuel had arranged somewhere for us to stay. Everything we owned was in two bags.”
Eleanor’s hand tightened around the shawl.
“Julian met us at the old carriage house. He said Arthur was waiting there.”
“He wasn’t,” Gerald said.
“No.” Eleanor’s voice thinned. “There was only Julian.”
For years afterward, Eleanor remembered the evening in fragments.
A lamp burning beside a workbench.
Rainwater shining on Gabriel’s coat.
Julian asking for the photographic negatives.
Gabriel saying he had made copies.
Then Julian striking him with something heavy.
“I ran for the door with you,” Eleanor told Elena. “He caught my shawl. I fell against the stairs.”
She touched the back of her head.
“The next thing I remember is waking in a clinic.”
“How long afterward?”
“Four days.”
Maxwell glanced at Gerald.
The lawyer removed his glasses.
“Your mother suffered a serious head injury.”
“They told me there had been a fire,” Eleanor said. “They told me Gabriel had started it after an argument.”
Elena’s fingers tightened on the violin’s neck.
“They told you I died.”
“Yes.”
The word barely escaped.
“And Gabriel?”
Eleanor looked at the floor.
“They said he died too.”
For the first time since opening the folder, Gerald began to cry.
Not loudly. Tears simply slipped down the deep lines beside his mouth.
Elena watched him.
Something about his expression made the room colder.
“You knew I was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You changed the will.”
“Yes.”
“You helped hide me.”
Gerald nodded.
Elena stepped closer.
“Then stop answering only what I ask.”
He raised his eyes.
“Gabriel didn’t die in the fire.”
Eleanor gripped the arms of her chair.
For a moment, Elena thought she had not understood.
Then Eleanor made a sound so small that everyone leaned toward her.
“Where?”
