His eyes rested on me, then Lila, then the recorder.

Something in his expression sharpened.

"Everything all right?"

Victor smiled.

"Family conversation."

Marcus did not smile back.

Victor walked down the hallway.

The moment he disappeared around the corner, Damian whispered, "Lock the door."

Marcus stepped inside.

"Sir?"

"Lock it."

Marcus obeyed.

Then Damian looked at me.

"The recorder."

I handed it over.

His hands shook so badly that Marcus had to help him hold it.

"You need a hospital," Marcus said.

"I need someone I can trust."

Marcus stiffened.

"You've trusted me for seventeen years."

"And tonight I need to know whether I was right."

Marcus stared at him.

Damian pressed play.

Victor's recorded confession filled the room again.

Marcus's face changed slowly.

Disbelief became anger, then something quieter and more wounded.

When the recording ended, he sat heavily in a chair.

"Victor?"

Damian nodded.

"And Dr.

Shaw."

Marcus rubbed both hands over his face.

"I checked the kitchen."

"What?"

"When you first got sick."

He looked ashamed.

"I checked the staff, deliveries, wine cellar, everything."

"Except my brother."

Marcus lowered his eyes.

"Except Victor."

Damian leaned against the pillows.

"That was what he counted on."

Marcus stood.

"I'll call the police."

Damian immediately said, "No."

I stared at him.

"Why not?"

Both men looked toward me.

I did not care.

"A man just pointed a gun at my child."

Damian's expression hardened.

"I know."

"Then why aren't we calling the police?"

"Because if Victor has been planning this for months, he has protections."

"What kind of protections?"

"People who owe him favors."

Marcus looked uneasy.

"Damian is right about one thing."

I turned toward him.

"Victor controls parts of this house that even I didn't know he'd reached."

"That doesn't mean every police officer in Maryland belongs to him."

"No," Marcus said.

"But we don't know who he's already contacted."

Damian looked at Lila.

"We leave quietly."

I almost laughed.

"You can barely sit up."

"Then I'll leave badly."

Despite myself, I stared at him.

He met my eyes.

"I don't expect you to help me because of who I am."

"Good."

"I expect you to help because Victor saw your daughter identify him."

My anger vanished.

That was the truth I had been trying not to face.

Even if I took Lila and ran, Victor knew what she had seen.

Damian's voice softened.

"He will come after the evidence."

I looked down at the recorder.

"And us."

Damian nodded.

Lila tugged my sleeve.

She had been watching all three adults carefully.

She signed.

Bad man gone?

I hesitated.

Not gone.

She frowned.

Coming back?

My throat tightened.

Maybe.

Lila looked toward the door and hugged her rabbit harder.

Then she did something that made Damian stare.

She crossed the room, climbed carefully onto the chair beside his bed, and placed the stuffed rabbit in his lap again.

Damian looked down at it.

"What is she doing?"

I watched her hands.

She signed slowly.

Rabbit protects.

I nearly smiled despite everything.

"She says Mr.

Rabbit protects people."

Damian stared at the toy.

One of its ears was permanently bent.

There was a faded pink stain near its stomach from the time Lila had spilled strawberry milk on it.

It was ridiculous in his hands.

And yet his expression became so still that I wondered if anyone had ever offered him something without asking for anything in return.

"Tell her I accept his services."

I signed the message.

Lila beamed.

Marcus turned toward the window, pretending not to notice.

Then headlights swept across the rain-darkened lawn.

A black sedan stopped near the front entrance.

Dr.

Shaw had arrived.

Marcus looked at Damian.

"We have an old service stairway."

Damian nodded.

"Behind the wardrobe."

I blinked.

"What?"

Marcus moved to an enormous walnut wardrobe built into the wall.

He pulled a decorative panel.

A narrow door opened behind it.

Cold air drifted from a stone passage.

"This house was built in 1912," Marcus said.

"Smugglers used it during Prohibition."

I stared into the darkness.

"Of course they did."

Marcus almost smiled.

Damian tried to swing his legs from the bed.

His strength failed immediately.

Marcus caught him.

"Easy."

"Don't say that word to me."

"Then fall dramatically if you prefer."

For the first time, I heard Damian laugh.

It was barely more than air.

Still, it transformed his face.

Lila laughed too, though she could not hear him.

She laughed because everyone else had stopped looking afraid for half a second.

Marcus helped Damian stand.

His knees buckled.

I stepped forward instinctively.

Together, Marcus and I steadied him.

He felt startlingly light.

This was the man people described as untouchable.

Yet beneath the expensive robe and hard reputation, he was simply a sick human being trying not to collapse.

"I can walk," he muttered.

"No," I said.

He glanced at me.

"You can pretend you can walk."

A tired smile touched his mouth.

"You are becoming very comfortable insulting me."

"I've had a difficult afternoon."

Marcus led us through the hidden passage.

Lila walked between us, one hand clutching my skirt while the other remained wrapped around Damian's rabbitless hand.

He looked down at her fingers around his.

Then at me.

"She trusts easily."

"No."

I shook my head.

"She reads people."

He considered that.

"Then I'm not sure whether to be flattered or concerned."

The passage descended behind the walls.

We emerged through another concealed door inside a linen closet on the second floor.

Marcus listened.

The corridor outside was empty.

"Garage is through the west wing."

Damian whispered, "No garage."

Marcus understood.

"Boathouse?"

Damian nodded.

Grayhaven stood directly on the Chesapeake Bay, with a private dock stretching behind the mansion.

A narrow path led downhill through cedar trees to a boathouse I had never entered.

We moved carefully.

When we reached the back staircase, voices rose from the foyer below.

Dr.

Shaw.

"Where is he?"

Victor answered.

"Upstairs."

"You said he was alone."

"He was."

"You promised there would be no witnesses."

My hand tightened around Lila's.

Damian's face became stone.

Marcus held a finger to his lips and guided us toward the kitchen.

We almost made it.

Then a woman stepped through the pantry doorway.

It was Rosa Alvarez, the mansion's cook.

She dropped a towel when she saw Damian.

"Madre de Dios."

Marcus reached for her.

"Quiet."

Rosa's eyes went to Lila, then to me.

"What happened?"

Damian spoke.

"Victor happened."

Her expression changed.

No confusion.

No surprise.

Something closer to recognition.

Damian saw it too.

"You knew."

Rosa swallowed.

"I suspected."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because people who tell powerful men things they don't want to believe tend to lose their jobs."

Damian looked ashamed.

Rosa continued.

"And because Victor began questioning the staff about loyalty months ago."

Marcus frowned.

"What questions?"

"Who would stay if Damian died."

Damian's face tightened.

"Who answered him?"

"Almost no one."

Rosa stepped closer.

"That made him angry."

A door slammed somewhere upstairs.

Rosa looked toward the ceiling.

"You need to go."

"We are."

She pointed toward the side entrance.

"Not through the garden."

"Why?"

"Victor installed cameras there last month."

Marcus stared at her.

"I approved no cameras."