“He had photos of my family,” I said, looking only at Jonathan. “He knew where my sister lived. He had a file on my medical history.”

Jonathan’s hand went completely still on the door.

“Harrison did that?” he whispered.

“He said the Vance family didn’t need a middle-class artist ruining their reputation,” I said. “He told me you agreed with him.”

“I didn’t know,” Jonathan said, his voice breaking. “I swear to you, Mariana, I never knew.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” I said.

I pulled at the door, trying to close it, but Jonathan held on.

“It does matter,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you. I spent years trying to find out why you just walked away.”

“You let them convince you I was gone,” I said.

Rebecca grabbed his sleeve, tugging him back with genuine urgency this time.

“Jonathan, Harrison is on the line right now,” Rebecca said, holding up her glowing screen.

The name *Harrison Vance* flashed in bright white letters on her phone.

Jonathan looked at the screen, then back at me.

“Why would Harrison threaten you?” Jonathan asked, his voice low and dangerous.