Chapter 2
Sebastian read the name behind the challenge twice.
Malcolm Voss.
Then he saw the attached photograph. Catherine entering Audrey’s hospice fourteen months earlier. And beneath it, one line:
Ask your wife what else she buried with your sister.
Sebastian was downstairs before Audrey reached the hospice. By the time her car turned beneath the stone archway, three black vehicles were already parked along the curb. Men who normally guarded casinos and waterfront warehouses stood quietly beneath the cold morning rain.
Sebastian had moved fast. It was what he did best.
But when Audrey stepped from her car and saw two elderly residents watching nervously through the front windows, her expression changed.
“Send them away,” she said.
Sebastian looked at his security detail. “Voss challenged the property protection six hours ago.”
“And your men are frightening people who came here to die peacefully.”
The words landed without drama. That made them harder to dismiss.
Sebastian gave one small gesture. Within seconds, engines started. Two vehicles pulled away. Only one man remained across the street—far enough back to disappear into the rain.
Audrey noticed that too. She said nothing.
Inside, the hospice smelled of coffee, lavender soap, and the cinnamon toast someone had burned in the kitchen. Fluorescent lights hummed over worn linoleum. A television murmured in the common room.
Sebastian had expected fear after the legal challenge. Instead, he found Audrey tying an apron around her wedding-night robe because a nurse had called in sick.
A man who controlled half the waterfront stood beneath fluorescent lights while his wife carried breakfast trays. It should have looked absurd.
It did not.
Audrey knew every resident by name. She remembered who hated raisins, who needed the curtains opened before breakfast, and which old veteran became embarrassed when anyone helped him cut his food. Sebastian watched her move through the room without making weakness visible.
That caught his attention in a way beauty never had.
Power in Sebastian’s world announced itself. Audrey’s did not.
Then a woman near the window saw him. Her spoon slipped from her hand.
“Mr. Ror.”
Sebastian recognized her from the photograph Malcolm had sent. Not Catherine. The woman beside her.
Audrey crossed the room immediately. “Mrs. Bell, you do not have to speak to anyone.”
Sebastian’s instincts sharpened. There it was again. A witness. A missing piece. Audrey standing between him and the answer.
Mrs. Bell reached for Audrey’s hand.
Sebastian could have cleared the room with one order. He could have questioned the woman privately before Audrey had time to shape whatever she knew. That was how his world worked.
Instead, Audrey looked directly at him. Not pleading.
Warning.
Mrs. Bell began to tremble. Audrey sat beside her.
“No one gets to turn your grief into evidence,” she said.
Sebastian understood then. The woman had known Catherine. That small question was answered. A larger one opened.
How many people here had known his sister while he had been searching for her?
His phone rang. Sebastian ignored it. Then it rang again. His attorney.
He answered only long enough to hear the consequence. Malcolm had filed an emergency challenge against the hospice redevelopment protection. Scheduled funding would freeze.
Sebastian could replace the money before lunch.
Audrey refused before he even offered.
“No.”
His gaze settled on her. “You do not know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do.” She stood. “If your money replaces everything they threaten, then eventually this place belongs to you, even if the deed says otherwise.”
Sebastian almost smiled. Not because she was wrong. Because she had just refused a solution most people would have begged him for.
Mrs. Bell suddenly tightened her grip on Audrey’s hand. Her voice was barely audible.
“Catherine said he would come.”
Sebastian stopped breathing.
Audrey closed her eyes.
Mrs. Bell looked at him. “She said her brother would come for her someday. She just needed time to become brave enough to let him.”
Sebastian stared at Audrey. The anger he expected did not arrive.
May you like
Something worse did.
Doubt.
