“The toxin levels rose every Tuesday and Friday,” I explained.

“Those were the days the suitors visited the estate for the charity committee meetings.”

Alexander picked up the diary, his fingers brushing the gold-embossed initials on the cover.

He flipped the pages, his eyes scanning his wife’s elegant handwriting.

“She wrote about Celeste,” he whispered.

“Yes,” I said. “Celeste was the one who brought the herbal teas.”

“But she wasn’t alone.”

“Vivian was here too,” I added. “Though Vivian was always more interested in the money.”

“My God,” Alexander breathed, his grip tightening on the leather cover.

“I watched her fade for six months,” I said, tears stinging my eyes.

“I promised her I would protect Ethan, and that I would find the proof.”

“Why didn’t you show this to me sooner?” he demanded, his voice cracking with emotion.

“Because I didn’t know who to trust,” I said honestly.

“Even you, Alexander.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, swallowing hard.

The rain outside lashed against the tall windows of the music room.

Outside the music room, the security radio on his belt suddenly crackled to life.