Lucian
I drove to the Nighthorn mansion fast, determined not to miss breakfast. We made it just in time.
My father looked surprised to see us. Martha… looked like she hadn’t slept. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed. She had the look of someone who regretted letting a secret slip. When she saw Mara and me walk in together, fear sparked behind her gaze.
She’s afraid I’ll tell him.
Don’t worry—I won’t tell him, I linked to her.
Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but her eyes never left me. Whoever had been bleeding her dry for twenty-three years still had her tightly in their grip. And Martha, for all her cruelty, was too cowardly to shake it off.
“Miss us so much?” my father asked as we joined the table, his usual smirk in place.
Mara and I smiled politely. We knew the routine.
“Happy
