“Not when the secret is that you’re planning to—” Cyrus didn’t finish that sentence. He shook his head. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter if Dunn knew or didn’t know. The police aren’t going to look into it. As far as they’re concerned, this was a lone priest planning a bad act. He killed himself before he could do it. The end. They sure as hell don’t have the resources, the manpower, or even the desire to go up against the Church in this town, not without any proof there’s some bigger conspiracy involved.”

Juliette said something softly in French.

“No,” Kingsley replied.

“What was that?” Cyrus said.

“Juliette said, ‘Call the press.’”

“The press?” Cyrus repeated that like he was thinking it over. “Could work. I know a couple investigative reporters in this town been looking for any excuse to go after the Church. I could leak the story to them.”

“Why?” Søren sat up straight and held up his hands. “A man is dead and the child is safe. No crime was committed. You’d only be leaking salacious gossip, not actual news. You can’t possibly want that little girl’s story in the papers.”

“Or your name,” Kingsley said to Nora. “You’re part of this. It gets out that priest called you before he shot himself… Ah, this isn’t the old days, Elle. I can’t protect you like I used to in New York.”

“As far as that little girl knows,” Søren said, “a priest from her school broke a rule and offered to take her to a park she wanted to visit. If the story gets in the news, and she finds out what Father Isaac was planning to do to her? Or what he did to himself because of that… Do you have any idea how much that could traumatize her?”

“A lot,” Cyrus said, nodding.

Kingsley said, “I vote ‘no’ to getting the press in on the story. If I get a vote.”

“If I get a vote,” Søren said, “I also vote ‘no.’ Twice. This could blow up and I don’t want you getting hit by shrapnel, Eleanor.”

Juliette stood up and went to Kingsley. Without a word, she took Céleste from his arms and carried her out of the room. Nora heard her footsteps on the stairs.

“Excuse me,” Nora said and left the three men in the sitting room. She followed Juliette up the stairs, and found her standing in the nursery, Céleste still in her arms, the ivory crib before her.

“You left?” Nora said from the doorway.

Juliette nodded. She kissed Céleste’s sleeping forehead.

“You left before you could vote,” Nora said. “What’s your vote?”

Juliette said nothing. Nora went into the nursery and stood at Juliette’s side in front of the crib.

“I hope you like it,” Nora said.

“It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect. Especially the color.”

“King will get used to it. Having a boy, if it’s a boy.”

“He’s afraid to have a boy,” Juliette said. “Because Céleste is so dark, he’s afraid our son will be dark. And if our son is dark, he’ll be… Well, you read the news.”