Chapter 2 - THE AUNT LILY WAS AFRAID TO NAME
For three seconds after Lily said Celeste’s name, nobody in the bedroom breathed.
Gabriel remained crouched beside the bed.
His daughter’s tiny body had begun trembling beneath the pink duvet, but her eyes stayed fixed on the photograph.
The woman in the picture was beautiful.
Blond hair.
Pearl earrings.
One hand resting on Gabriel’s shoulder.
Celeste Varrick.
Gabriel’s younger half-sister.
Lily’s aunt.
And, according to every article I had read while sitting in the staffing agency’s car on the way downtown, one of the most trusted members of the Varrick family.
Gabriel spoke carefully.
“What did Aunt Celeste say?”
Lily immediately closed her mouth.
The terror returned so quickly I wanted to physically push every adult out of the room.
Gabriel leaned closer.
“Lily.”
I raised one hand.
He looked at me.
“Stop.”
One of his guards actually shifted toward me.
Apparently telling Gabriel Varrick what to do was not considered a survival skill.
I ignored everyone except Lily.
“She already answered one question.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“She just accused my sister of arranging her mother’s murder.”
“She’s four.”
“And my wife is dead.”
His voice cracked on the final word.
There it was.
The grief beneath all that controlled violence.
I softened my tone.
“And your daughter is still here.”
That stopped him.
I pointed toward Lily’s hand.
Her fingers were curled so tightly around the blanket that her knuckles had gone white.
“If you turn her first sentence in four days into an interrogation, you might not get a second one.”
Gabriel stared at me.
Then at Lily.
Slowly, he sat back.
“Okay.”
I did not expect obedience.
Neither did anyone else.
The doctor near the door looked almost impressed.
I turned toward Lily.
“You don’t have to tell us anything else right now.”
Her eyes moved to me.
I continued humming.
Very softly.
The same melody.
An old Irish lullaby my mother used to sing whenever thunder rattled our apartment windows.
Lily’s lower lip trembled.
Then she whispered:
“Don’t.”
I stopped immediately.
“Okay.”
Her shoulders lowered by less than an inch.
Still progress.
I glanced toward the IV.
Four days without willingly eating or drinking meant the fluid line was probably the only reason she remained conscious enough to speak.
On the bedside table sat untouched juice.
Water.
Soup.
Applesauce.
Three kinds of crackers.
All arranged like evidence of adult failure.
I did not reach for any of it.
Instead, I took the paper cup from beside the sink.
Filled it halfway with water.
Then placed it on the floor beside me.
Not near Lily.
Not offering.
Just there.
“I’m thirsty.”
I said.
Gabriel looked confused.
I drank.
Then made a face.
“This is terrible water.”
Nothing.
I continued.
“Very disappointing for a billionaire house.”
One guard coughed.
I suspected he was hiding a laugh.
Gabriel gave him a look that ended the possibility.
Then Lily’s eyes moved toward the cup.
Good.
I poured another.
Set it beside a stuffed bear near the bed.
“This one’s for him.”
Lily stared at the bear.
“He’s probably thirsty too.”
Silence.
Then:
“He’s a girl.”
Her voice was barely there.
Every adult froze again.
I ignored them.
“My mistake.”
I placed the cup closer to the bear.
“What’s her name?”
Lily did not answer.
Fine.
I waited.
Almost a minute.
Then:
“Maisy.”
“Maisy.”
I nodded seriously.
“Excellent name.”
Lily’s eyes moved toward the water.
Then her hand emerged from beneath the duvet.
Tiny.
Bruised from the IV.
She reached.
Stopped.
Looked at Gabriel.
He almost spoke.
I shook my head once.
He stayed silent.
Lily picked up the cup.
She took the smallest sip.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
I heard someone behind me whisper:
“Jesus.”
Lily swallowed.
Then another sip.
The doctor turned away quickly, probably to hide what appeared on his face.
Four days.
Every adult around her had been trying to get water into that child.
Lily had finally chosen it herself.
Then footsteps approached from the hallway.
Fast.
A woman’s voice:
“Gabriel?”
Lily dropped the cup.
Water spilled across the duvet.
Her entire body folded inward.
“No.”
The word was sharper than anything she had said.
Gabriel stood.
Celeste appeared in the doorway.
Same blond hair as the photograph.
Cream coat.
Pearls.
Beautiful enough to belong on a magazine cover.
She looked at the bed.
Then at me.
Then at the spilled cup.
“Oh, Lily.”
She moved forward.
Lily screamed.
Not cried.
Screamed.
“NO!”
Gabriel stepped directly between them.
Celeste stopped.
Shock crossed her face.
“What are you doing?”
“Stay there.”
“Gabriel, she’s terrified. Let me—”
“Stay.”
His voice changed.
The exhausted father disappeared.
For one second, I understood why New York feared him.
Celeste looked toward me.
“Who is she?”
“Claire Donnelly.”
“I asked what she’s doing here.”
I answered:
“Sitting.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Gabriel did not look away from his sister.
“Lily spoke.”
Celeste’s face went still.
Too still.
“What did she say?”
There.
Not:
She spoke?
Not:
Is she okay?
What did she say?
Gabriel noticed too.
“She remembered the attack.”
Celeste swallowed.
“That’s good.”
“No.”
I said quietly.
Everyone looked at me.
“That wasn’t relief.”
Celeste’s eyes sharpened.
“You’re a temporary nanny.”
“I’m actually a nursing student.”
“How wonderful.”
She turned back to Gabriel.
“Get her out.”
Lily immediately made a sound.
“No.”
Gabriel looked toward the bed.
Lily pointed at me.
“She stays.”
That settled it.
Gabriel said:
“She stays.”
Celeste’s face changed.
A crack.
Small.
Then she recovered.
“Fine.”
She stepped backward.
“I’m only trying to help my niece.”
Lily buried her face in the pillow.
I noticed something as Celeste turned.
A silver bracelet.
Three charms.
A moon.
A key.
A tiny bird.
Lily had been staring at it.
Her breathing became faster with every tiny metallic sound.
I moved beside the bed.
“You’re okay.”
Celeste paused.
Lily whispered:
“Bird.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“The bird.”
She pointed toward Celeste.
The bracelet.
Celeste’s hand immediately moved behind her coat.
Gabriel saw.
“What about it?”
Lily shook.
“The car man had one.”
Celeste’s face emptied.
Gabriel stepped toward her.
“What did she say?”
Celeste laughed nervously.
“She’s traumatized. She saw things.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel’s voice became terrifyingly calm.
“She did.”
Lily whispered:
“Aunt Celeste gave it.”
My blood went cold.
Gabriel looked at the bracelet.
Then at his sister.
“Who did you give a bird charm to?”
“No one.”
Lily started crying.
“Bad man had it.”
Gabriel turned toward his security chief.
“Lock every exit.”
Celeste’s expression changed.
“Gabriel.”
“No one leaves.”
“You cannot possibly believe—”
“My daughter has spoken seven sentences in four days.”
He stepped closer.
“And four of them are about you.”
Celeste slapped him.
The room went silent.
Gabriel did not move.
She was crying now.
“You lost Elena too.”
Elena.
Lily’s mother.
Gabriel’s wife.
Celeste continued:
“She was my sister-in-law. I loved her.”
Lily whispered from the bed:
“No.”
Celeste stopped.
Lily looked directly at her.
“You said Mommy was stupid.”
Nobody moved.
Then:
“You said Daddy would kill everybody after.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
Celeste backed toward the door.
Lily continued.
“And then police take Daddy.”
My pulse hammered.
That was no longer a vague memory.
It was a plan.
Kill Elena.
Provoke Gabriel into retaliation.
Have him arrested or killed.
And somewhere inside that plan—
Lily was supposed to be taken.
Gabriel’s voice came out almost inaudible.
“What did they need my daughter for?”
Celeste’s eyes flicked toward me.
Not him.
Me.
Then suddenly she reached inside her handbag.
Three guards drew weapons.
Lily screamed.
I climbed onto the bed and covered her with my body.
Gabriel crossed the room.
He tore the bag from Celeste’s hand.
No gun.
A phone.
Celeste shouted:
“You’re insane!”
Gabriel looked at the screen.
One unsent message.
Only four words.
SHE REMEMBERED. MOVE NOW.
His face went white.
Then a gunshot cracked somewhere downstairs.
Every light in the penthouse died.
And in the darkness, Lily grabbed my shirt and whispered:
May you like
“He came back.”
---
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