My hand slipped into the deep pocket of my black apron.

My fingers closed around the thick, heavy parchment envelope I had kept hidden for two years.

It was sealed with purple wax, stamped with the crest of the Hawthorne family.

I stepped out of the shadows and walked toward the head of the table.

The silence in the room was absolute, save for the rain hammering against the glass.

“Elena?” Alexander asked, his eyes tracking my movement. “What is this?”

I reached out and placed the envelope directly in front of him on the dark wood.

“This is from Eleanor, sir,” I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “She told me to give this to you only when Ethan made his choice.”

Alexander stared at the envelope.

His hand hovered over it for a second before his fingers touched the cold purple wax.

He recognized the handwriting on the front. I could see the sudden, sharp grief in his eyes.

Celeste leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she tried to read the script on the paper.