Chapter 3 - Ringing.
Again and again.
At the dining table, Alden stepped forward.
Not dramatically.
He did not bang a fist.
He did not shout.
He moved three feet from the sideboard and stopped.
Every eye turned to him.
Evelyn’s face went white in a way powder could not save.
“Alden,” she said.
Her voice was soft.
Dangerous.
He bowed his head slightly.
“Mrs. Whitmore.”
“That will be all.”
“No, madam,” Alden said.
“It will not.”
The room changed.
You could feel it.
A room has a body.
It inhales.
It stiffens.
It leans away from fire.
Graham put down his fork.
“Excuse me?”
Alden turned to him.
“Mr. Whitmore, I believe Mrs. Whitmore asked Miss Vale where she obtained that bell.”
Marissa laughed.
A small, nervous sound.
“Are we really doing this over a bell?”
“No,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
May you like
I kept my hands folded.
“We are doing this over theft.”
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