“So, what’s your answer? Will you fight to live for me and Asher? For this baby? I think Edmund can wait just a bit longer, don’t you?” I asked.

Instead of answering, Elizabeth threw her arms around me. I could feel hot tears saturating my dress.

“Of course, I will, dear. It would be an honor.”

“And you can help me pick out some maternity clothes. This time I actually need them,” I said, with a wink.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and chuckled. I stared at her face, the laugh lines at the corners of her lips, the frown lines between her brows. She was a unique woman, with a lifetime of memories and regrets that she carried with her. As difficult as she was to get along with sometimes, I wanted to love her. And I wanted my baby to know their grandmother.

My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces. I could see Tinsley floating through the aisles; surprisingly, she was talking and smiling. She seemed to be enjoying herself, coming out of her shell a bit. And behind the back row, where the sun cast a narrow pocket of shadows, I saw my mother. In her simple white dress, long black hair flowing like silk in the breeze, she stood watching. She smiled, lifted her hand, and waved me goodbye.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Delfina

The help

That night…

They say that there are two sides to every story. But, in my seventy years on this earth, I’ve learned that there are many more than two. In the end, all that matters is truth.

I’ll go to the grave protecting my truth.

It was two in the morning when I heard the shouts. The door to Bri Beake’s room was flung open, the silky cream curtains I’d ironed countless times were blowing recklessly in the breeze.

You see, the butler’s pantry isn’t the only hidden area in the house. Both sides of the estate are equipped with tiny rooms and corridors; all in the name of keeping the ‘help’ hidden and out of sight. Always working on the periphery, always hidden from the heart of the house. But, unfortunately for me, the original ‘help’ at Leblanc-Landry had access to outhouses. There are no longer outhouses on the premises, which means I have to either take a chance of running into guests when I creep around and use the lavatories, or I have to sneak a piss out in the bushes when no one is looking.

And that’s exactly what I was doing— ‘popping a squat’—in the shrubbery, when all hell broke loose between Bri and Mara.

I could see them up there in Bri’s room, nose to nose, and arguing vehemently. Somehow, they’d both ended up on the balcony, voices rising and carrying in the wind. I worried that someone might hear them and call the authorities. That certainly wouldn’t be good for business!