Adrian did not interfere.
My mother touched her cheek.
“I deserved that.”
“You let me bury you.”
“It was the only way to keep you alive.”
“Stop saying that!” My voice tore from me. “Both of you keep calling abandonment protection.”
She flinched.
Good.
I wanted them to feel something—some fraction of the loneliness they had left me to carry.
My mother’s name was Celeste Vale.
After the poisoning attempt, my grandmother discovered that the tea had been tampered with before entering the hospital room. Celeste survived because she drank only a small amount.
My grandmother immediately staged her death.
A falsified certificate.
A closed casket.
A private transfer to a medical facility overseas.
For years, Celeste suffered neurological damage and memory loss. By the time she recovered enough to return, Beatrice had powerful allies, and Adrian was still wanted.
