Chapter 245

Emilia's POV

I couldn't sleep.

The ceiling of my bedroom stared back at me—smooth white plaster, unchanged for twenty years. But tonight it felt different. Accusatory. Like it knew what I'd done.

Like it remembered.

I rolled onto my side, pulling the silk sheets tight around my shoulders. The fabric was cool against my skin, but it didn't help. Nothing helped. My mind kept circling back to that room. To the butler's pale face. To Eileen's green eyes watching me over his unconscious body.

She knows.

No. No, she couldn't. I'd been careful. So careful.

But that look on her face when she'd grabbed the water glass—

My fingers clenched in the sheets. I forced myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

Think, Emilia. Think.

The butler was still alive. That was the problem. As long as he was breathing, he was a threat. He'd seen too much. Known too much. All those years of loyal service, and now—

Now he was going to destroy everything.

I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. The hardwood floor was cold under my bare feet. Good. The shock of it helped clear my head.

I needed to think this through logically. Eileen had the water. She'd probably analyzed it by now, found the suffocation vine compound. But did she understand what it meant? Did she know?

Of course she knows, you idiot.

The voice in my head sounded like Serena's. Sweet, disappointed Serena.

I pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars.

"Shut up," I whispered. "Just shut up."

But the memories came anyway. They always did when I was alone in the dark.

---

Twenty years ago.

I was standing outside the laboratory door, my hand frozen on the brass handle. Inside, I could hear Serena humming—that annoying little tune she always sang when she was happy.

"The formula's finally perfected," she was saying to herself. "Tomorrow I can give it to Alastair. He'll be cured. Finally cured."

My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Of course. Of course Serena had succeeded. Serena always succeeded. Brilliant, talented, beloved Serena. Father's favorite. The Council's golden child. The healer who was going to save everyone.

And me? I was just the older sister. The one who handled the boring administrative work. The one who smiled and nodded at Council meetings while Serena got all the credit.

The one who'd made a deal with the Council's shadow faction.

"Just get us the formula," they'd said. "Do that, and the Goode family gets a permanent seat. Real power, not just ceremonial status."

I'd agreed. Of course I'd agreed. What choice did I have? Serena was going to give the formula away for free anyway. Publish it in some medical journal so every two-bit healer in the country could use it.

Stupid. So stupid.

I pushed the door open.

---

The memory shifted. I was back in that laboratory now, seeing it all again with perfect clarity.

Serena looked up from her notes, surprised but smiling. "Emilia! What are you doing here so late?"

"I heard you succeeded." I kept my voice warm. Sisterly. "I wanted to see."

Her face lit up. God, she was so trusting. "Look!" She held up the notebook, pages covered in her neat handwriting. "The cellular regeneration formula. It reverses the aging process at the genetic level. Alastair won't just be stabilized—he'll be completely cured."

"That's wonderful." I moved closer, looking over her shoulder at the notes. My heart was pounding. "Can I see?"

"Of course!" She handed me the notebook without hesitation.

I held it in my hands. All of Serena's research. Years of work. The key to everything.

"Serena," I said quietly. "You can't publish this."

She blinked. "What?"

"This formula—it's too valuable. The family should control it. Use it to negotiate with the Council. We could finally have real influence—"

"Emilia." Her voice went flat. "This is healing magic. Not a bargaining chip."

"But think about what we could—"

"No." She reached for the notebook. "The Healer's Oath says we can't use medical knowledge for personal gain. I'm publishing the formula tomorrow so every patient who needs it can—"

"Enough!" The word exploded out of me before I could stop it. "Do you have any idea what I've sacrificed for this family?!"

Serena stepped back, eyes wide.

"While you've been playing in your laboratory, I've been the one dealing with Council politics! I've been the one maintaining our relationships, handling our business affairs!" My hands were shaking. "Father only sees your genius. He has no idea that I'm the one holding everything together!"

"Emilia, I didn't know you felt—"

"Of course you didn't know!" I was shouting now. Couldn't stop. "You never notice anything outside your precious research!"

"I'm sorry." Her voice was small. Hurt. "I didn't mean to—"

I took a breath. Forced myself to calm down. This wasn't going how I'd planned.

"Just... give me the formula," I said. More gently. "I'll handle it properly. Make sure it benefits the family."

She shook her head. "I can't. It goes against everything I believe in."

Something cold settled in my chest. "Then I'm sorry too."

I pulled the vial from my pocket.

---

I stood up from the bed now, pacing across my bedroom. My hands were trembling.

I didn't mean for it to go that far.

The magic-blocking powder—I'd only wanted to stop her from using defensive spells while I took the notebook. That was all. Just temporarily disable her magic so I could leave with the formula.

But Serena had panicked. Stumbled backward. Knocked over the rack of reagent bottles on the lab bench.

I could still hear the crash. The sound of glass shattering. The hiss as chemicals mixed.

Toxic fumes. Spreading fast.

"Emilia! Run!" Serena had screamed.

But I'd already grabbed the notebook. Already turned toward the door.

I'd looked back. Just once.

Serena was on the floor, reaching toward me. "Sister... help me..."

I could have gone back. Should have gone back.

But if I saved her, she'd tell everyone what I'd done. The Council would know I'd tried to steal the formula. The family would be ruined. I'd be ruined.

So I ran.

I left her there.

Left her choking on those fumes while I escaped with her research.

---

My reflection stared back at me from the darkened window. Pale face. Haunted eyes.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the ghost of my sister. "I'm so sorry."

But sorry didn't bring her back.

Sorry didn't erase what I'd done.

And now—now Eileen was asking questions. The butler knew too much. The evidence was piling up.

Everything I'd built over twenty years was about to collapse.

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass.

What do I do?

The butler had to be silenced. Permanently. But Gavin had posted guards outside his room. Eileen was watching. I couldn't get close to him now.

And the water sample—Eileen had it. Physical evidence of the suffocation vine. If she ran tests, if she compared it to what killed Evelyn...

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I picked it up with shaking hands.

Unknown number. Encrypted message.

The Council is asking questions about the Goode family formula. They want to know why it was never published as promised. Handle this, or we'll handle it for you.

My blood turned to ice.

The shadow faction. The ones who'd promised me power in exchange for Serena's research. They were getting impatient.

I'd given them the formula twenty years ago. They'd used it to cure their own people, kept it secret, maintained their advantage. And in return, they'd protected me. Helped me rise in the family. Made sure no one asked too many questions about Serena's death.

But now Eileen was stirring things up. Making people remember. Making them wonder.

And the Council didn't like loose ends.

I deleted the message and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Think. There has to be a way out of this.

Eileen was the key. If I could discredit her somehow—make her look unstable, emotional, unreliable—then no one would believe her accusations.

Or...

Or I could make her disappear too.

The thought made me sick. But what choice did I have?

She looked so much like Serena. Same green eyes. Same stubborn determination. Same naive belief that truth and justice mattered.

It would be like killing my sister all over again.

But I'd done it once. I could do it again.

I had to.

For the family. For my position. For everything I'd sacrificed.