“Come back inside,” he murmured into my hair. “Let’s face her.”

I looked at my suitcase sitting by the door, then back at Nathan.

“Okay,” I said.

We walked out of the mudroom together, leaving my suitcase behind.

The hallway of the main house was silent, the high ceilings making our footsteps echo.

We walked toward the library, where the lights were still burning behind the frosted glass doors.

As we reached the threshold, the doors opened.

Eleanor stood there, her silver hair perfectly coiffed, a glass of sherry in her hand.

She didn’t look surprised to see us together.

Instead, a cold, thin smile touched her lips.

“So,” she said, looking from Nathan to me. “The stray has decided to stay.”

“We know, Eleanor,” Nathan said, his voice calm and steady.

Eleanor took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving his face.

“Know what, darling?” she asked.

“We have the ledger,” Nathan said, stepping forward. “And we have the adoption records.”

Eleanor’s smile didn’t fade; it only grew sharper, like a razor blade. “Do you really think a few old papers will save you, Nathan?”