Chapter 3
Oliver woke at dawn.
His eyes opened slowly, then filled with panic.
“Don’t close the door.”
I stood immediately.
“No doors closed.”
The nurse propped the room door open.
Oliver watched it like it might turn into a wall.
My heart tore.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He looked at me.
“She said you stopped looking.”
I closed my eyes.
“Victoria?”
He nodded.
“And Grandfather. He said if I loved you, I would stay quiet.”
I gripped the bed rail.
“What did you know?”
Oliver swallowed.
“I saw the papers.”
“What papers?”
“In Grandfather’s study. Before they said I died. I was hiding because Victoria yelled at me.”
He started trembling.
I touched his hand.
“Slowly.”
“There was a baby picture. A girl. Grandfather said she had to stay buried like the others.”
Hannah went still.
“What girl?”
Oliver looked at her.
“She looked like you.”
Hannah’s face drained.
“My mother?”
My brother’s wife had died when Hannah was a baby.
A boating accident.
At least, that was what Edmund told us.
Detective Reeves entered with a recorder.
“Oliver, only if you feel ready.”
He looked at me.
I nodded.
“You are in charge now.”
He took a breath.
“I heard Grandfather say Hannah’s mother found the adoption files. He said she wanted to ruin the family.”
Hannah covered her mouth.
“My mother was investigating something?”
Oliver nodded.
“He said the Vale bloodline had to stay clean.”
My stomach turned.
Edmund had spoken about bloodline my whole life.
Who belonged.
Who did not.
Who was worthy.
Then Oliver whispered, “Father, I wasn’t sick.”
I leaned closer.
“What?”
“The night they took me, Victoria gave me medicine. Grandfather said dead sons can’t inherit.”
The room went cold.
I had never cared about inheritance.
May you like
But Edmund had.
And Oliver was my only legal heir.
