pressing her hands to her eyes to try and block out the horrible dream images. The nightmares were incredibly vivid, and she always had a hard time going back to sleep. In a way, she was grateful. If she slipped right back to sleep, the nightmare would probably just pick up where it left off.
But on the other hand, if she didn’t get some shut-eye, she had no idea how she’d face Sébastien with a clear head the next day.
She could only think of one thing that might help her get back to sleep without the likelihood of a nightmare. Downstairs, in the kitchen, she knew she’d seen a crystal decanter with an amber liquid inside.
When she’d had the nightmares as a little girl, Aunt Molly and Uncle Mike had given her nips of blackberry brandy to help ease her back to sleep. She knew whatever was in that decanter wasn’t the mild fruit-flavored brandy they’d favored, but it might still do the trick.
Ella threw back the covers and padded out of her room. The marble floor of the hallway was cold against her bare feet and she wished she’d borrowed a pair of slippers or socks. The room—and the pajamas—both belonged to Sébastien’s absent sister Honorée. Judging from the way the pajama legs bunched at her feet, Honorée was as tall as a model.
Ella slipped down the stairs, holding the wrought-iron rail to keep from tripping on the too-long pajama legs. When she reached the ground floor, she slunk through the series of parlors and entertaining rooms until she reached the long hallway that took her to the kitchen.
Opal moonlight spilled through the window over the sink, illuminating the decanter set on the counter. She reached for it and poured half an inch of whiskey into a cut-crystal glass. When she’d replaced the lid in the decanter, she took a sip and held the liquid in her mouth.
The alcohol seared her tongue and her gums, stinging like the knowledge that she’d failed her father once again. One more lead that could have brought her closer to his killer, and she’d blown it.
Ella swallowed heavily. She tilted her head up to the moon and wondered if her father could see her now. Would he be disappointed in me? she wondered. Or would he just want me to give up and try to have a normal life?
She had never forgotten her father’s final wish—for her to forget what happened and remember the good in people. Deep down, she knew he wouldn’t approve of her quest. But it felt so disloyal to do what he asked and just move on. Aren’t there any consequences for what they did? she wondered. How can they just get away with it?
Every time she asked that question, she felt the anger burn deep in her belly. If she let it, it would consume her. Surely that hadn’t been what her dad meant when he said great things would happen for her. Was she wrong? Was he?
Ella looked up at the moon, hanging low and full over the Cherbourg gardens. Suddenly, she envisioned herself as a child again, wandering through tall garden hedges. Lost and bewildered, she wandered without direction or focus. Which path was the right one? Had she ever known? It wasn’t clear anymore—if it ever had been.
“Dad, I’m drowning,” she whispered. “Help me.”
*
Sébastien stood in the shadows and watched a single tear slip down her face. In the moonlight, it looked like a crystalline spiderweb traced onto her skin. His hands ached to reach out and wipe it away.
Thanks to Jake, he knew exactly what had happened to her all those years ago. Although he’d seen his share of dysfunctional family moments, nothing had come close to the tragedy and violence that she experienced at such a young age.
He couldn’t help but feel tenderness for her. Even though all she wanted was to catch him in a lie and prove his family had stolen from hers, he couldn’t stay angry with her. He understood, in fact . S he was on a quest to avenge her father, the same way he
But on the other hand, if she didn’t get some shut-eye, she had no idea how she’d face Sébastien with a clear head the next day.
She could only think of one thing that might help her get back to sleep without the likelihood of a nightmare. Downstairs, in the kitchen, she knew she’d seen a crystal decanter with an amber liquid inside.
When she’d had the nightmares as a little girl, Aunt Molly and Uncle Mike had given her nips of blackberry brandy to help ease her back to sleep. She knew whatever was in that decanter wasn’t the mild fruit-flavored brandy they’d favored, but it might still do the trick.
Ella threw back the covers and padded out of her room. The marble floor of the hallway was cold against her bare feet and she wished she’d borrowed a pair of slippers or socks. The room—and the pajamas—both belonged to Sébastien’s absent sister Honorée. Judging from the way the pajama legs bunched at her feet, Honorée was as tall as a model.
Ella slipped down the stairs, holding the wrought-iron rail to keep from tripping on the too-long pajama legs. When she reached the ground floor, she slunk through the series of parlors and entertaining rooms until she reached the long hallway that took her to the kitchen.
Opal moonlight spilled through the window over the sink, illuminating the decanter set on the counter. She reached for it and poured half an inch of whiskey into a cut-crystal glass. When she’d replaced the lid in the decanter, she took a sip and held the liquid in her mouth.
The alcohol seared her tongue and her gums, stinging like the knowledge that she’d failed her father once again. One more lead that could have brought her closer to his killer, and she’d blown it.
Ella swallowed heavily. She tilted her head up to the moon and wondered if her father could see her now. Would he be disappointed in me? she wondered. Or would he just want me to give up and try to have a normal life?
She had never forgotten her father’s final wish—for her to forget what happened and remember the good in people. Deep down, she knew he wouldn’t approve of her quest. But it felt so disloyal to do what he asked and just move on. Aren’t there any consequences for what they did? she wondered. How can they just get away with it?
Every time she asked that question, she felt the anger burn deep in her belly. If she let it, it would consume her. Surely that hadn’t been what her dad meant when he said great things would happen for her. Was she wrong? Was he?
Ella looked up at the moon, hanging low and full over the Cherbourg gardens. Suddenly, she envisioned herself as a child again, wandering through tall garden hedges. Lost and bewildered, she wandered without direction or focus. Which path was the right one? Had she ever known? It wasn’t clear anymore—if it ever had been.
“Dad, I’m drowning,” she whispered. “Help me.”
*
Sébastien stood in the shadows and watched a single tear slip down her face. In the moonlight, it looked like a crystalline spiderweb traced onto her skin. His hands ached to reach out and wipe it away.
Thanks to Jake, he knew exactly what had happened to her all those years ago. Although he’d seen his share of dysfunctional family moments, nothing had come close to the tragedy and violence that she experienced at such a young age.
He couldn’t help but feel tenderness for her. Even though all she wanted was to catch him in a lie and prove his family had stolen from hers, he couldn’t stay angry with her. He understood, in fact . S he was on a quest to avenge her father, the same way he
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