The man who stood at his funeral.

The man who helped us escape.

The man who had protected us over and over.

The man who was currently sleeping in the guest house fifty yards away.

Elias's voice filled the room.

“Ask Luca why your first child died.”

The screen went black.

Nicholas didn't move.

I couldn't.

Then a floorboard creaked in the hallway.

Nicholas raised his gun.

The bedroom door opened slowly.

Luca stood there.

No weapon.

No jacket.

Barefoot.

His eyes moved from Nicholas to me.

Then to the black television screen.

He understood immediately.

Nicholas’s voice was nearly unrecognizable.

“Tell me he's lying.”

Luca said nothing.

“Tell me.”

Silence.

I felt my heart break before Luca even spoke.

Finally, he looked at me.

His face was full of something worse than guilt.

Grief.

“Sofia.”

My hand moved instinctively over my stomach.

Luca closed his eyes.

“I didn't know what was in the syringe.”

Nicholas stepped forward.

“You touched her IV?”

“Yes.”

“You were there?”

“Yes.”

“You knew she was pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Nicholas raised the gun.

I grabbed his wrist.

“Nicholas.”

“He killed our baby.”

Luca looked at him.

“No.”

“Then explain.”

Luca's voice shook.

“I was told the medication would stop premature contractions.”

“I wasn't having contractions,” I whispered.

He looked at me.

“I know that now.”

“Who told you?”

Luca swallowed.

“Nicholas…”

“WHO?”

The shout shook the room.

Luca looked at his oldest friend.

Then said the name that destroyed the last safe place in the Moretti family.

“Isabella.”

Nicholas lowered the gun by half an inch.

“My mother?”

Luca nodded.

“She told me Sofia’s pregnancy was ectopic.”

My entire body went cold.

“It wasn't.”

“I know.”

“She said doctors needed medication immediately and Sofia wouldn't consent because she was hysterical.”

I stared at him.

“I was unconscious.”

“Yes.”

“Did you ask the doctor?”

“No.”

“Did you ask Emma?”

“No.”

His voice cracked.

“I trusted Isabella.”

Nicholas laughed softly.

A terrifying sound.

“Everyone trusted someone.”

Luca looked at him.

“I've lived with it every day.”

“You should have told us.”

“I didn't know the miscarriage was connected until Marianne contacted me months later.”

“Then why didn't you tell us?”

“Because she said the drug she gave wasn't enough to cause it.”

“What drug?”

Luca named it.

Evelyn, standing in the doorway behind him, went white.

She had heard the alarm and come from the guest room.

“No.”

I looked at her.

“What?”

She moved closer.

“That medication doesn't cause miscarriage.”

Nicholas stared.

“Then Elias manipulated the video.”

“No.”

Evelyn shook her head.

“Luca gave the drug.”

“Then?”

“The drug was designed to protect the pregnancy.”

Silence.

I frowned.

“What?”

Evelyn looked at Luca.

“Isabella wasn't trying to end Sofia’s pregnancy.”

Nicholas's face changed.

“She was trying to save it.”

Luca stared.

Evelyn continued.

“Someone had already given Sofia something else.”

My blood went cold.

“Who?”

Evelyn looked toward the black screen.

“That's what Elias doesn't want you asking.”

Nicholas slowly lowered his gun.

And I understood.

This was not the end of the secret.

It was the trap.

Elias wanted Nicholas to turn on Luca.

On Isabella.

On everyone.

Exactly what he had been doing to the Moretti family for years.

I looked at my husband.

He looked at me.

This time, neither of us ran toward the lie.

Nicholas reached for my hand.

“What do we do?”

Not what should I do.

What do we do.

I squeezed his fingers.

“We stop letting other people tell us who to hate.”

Then I looked at Luca.

“You're going to tell us everything.”

He nodded.

“Everything.”

“And after that?”

Nicholas asked.

I rested my other hand over the new life growing inside me.

“After that, we find Elias Vane.”

Nicholas’s eyes hardened.

“And this time?”

I looked at the people around us.

My husband.

His oldest friend.

The twin sister of my dead mother.

A family built on lies finally learning what truth cost.

“This time,” I said, “nobody fakes a death.”

Nicholas almost smiled.

“Good.”

Outside, dawn began breaking over the trees.

For years, every Moretti disaster had started in darkness.

This one would end differently.

Because Elias Vane had made one mistake.

He thought fear would divide us.

He didn't understand that fear had already done its worst.

Nicholas and I had buried each other.

We had buried a child.

We had buried parents, histories, and versions of ourselves that had never really existed.

There was very little left to threaten us with.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't standing beside a grave.

I was standing beside my husband.

Alive.

Terrified.

Angry.

Together.

Whatever came next would have to face both of us.