Chapter 272 The One With The Stall
ADRIANA
Elijah thought I’d lost my mind.
He said as much, with slightly more diplomatic phrasing, standing in the center of the sitting room while the house moved around us getting ready for a party he believed should not be happening.
“Lana is out there,” he said. “She’s not even close to six months old and she’s out there with people we don’t know and you want to throw a party.”
“I want to use the party we’ve already assembled as a tool,” I said. “Those are different things.”
“Adriana—”
“Whoever took her wants to see what they’ve done.” I kept my voice even because one of us being angry wasn’t useful and I could see he was already past that threshold. “They took her at a public event. They left nothing behind. They want us reactive — they want chaos and lockdown and visible panic. And if there’s a chance they come here tonight to watch us fall apart, I want to be in that room when they arrive.”
“You’re gambling with our daughter—”
“She is our daughter!” I raised my voice slightly.
My chest was heaving. I shut my eyes and breathed in and out, reminding myself to stay calm and listen to the woman in my head. I cleared my throat and spoke slowly. “I’m working with the information I have.” I looked at him directly. “I know you’re frightened. I am too. But sitting in this house in lockdown does not find her. Being in a room full of suspects and watching who acts wrong might.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Then I’m wrong and we deal with the consequences. But I don’t think I am.” I paused. “Elijah. I need you to trust me on this one.”
He looked at me for a long time. His jaw was working. I could see the argument he wanted to make and the restraint he was choosing instead.
“The party holds,” he said finally. “But I want double the security on every entry point and I want Hazel with you every minute.”
“Agreed.”
He walked out without saying anything else, and I sat down for exactly thirty seconds and let the fear exist without managing it, and then I stood up and went to find Leo.
He was in his room. I opened the door without knocking.
He was sitting on his bed with his elbows on his knees, still in the graduation uniform, staring at the floor. He looked up when I came in.
“I told you this wasn’t your fault,” I said.
“I know.”
“And yet you’re sitting here doing exactly what I told you not to do.” I crossed the room and stood in front of him. “I need you with me tonight. Not falling apart in your room. You should be with me, at that party, watching faces. You know the people who were at that venue better than any of us. You know which faces belong there and which ones didn’t.”
He looked up at me with the red-rimmed eyes of someone who had been crying and had stopped because crying hadn’t helped. “You’re going ahead with the party?”
“I’m using the party. Yes.”
Something shifted in his expression — the grief compressing into something more focused. I watched him make the decision.
“Tell me what you need,” he said.
“Get changed. Come downstairs in twenty minutes. You’ll act as they would expect you to, happy. You’re celebrating a big milestone. So, stand beside me and use your eyes.” He nodded, his bloodshot eyes staring into mine, seeking acceptance. I gave his hands a squeeze. “Leo look at me,” I waited until he looked up again. “None of this is on you. I know you understand that in your head. I need you to put it somewhere so it doesn't slow you down tonight. There will be time for everything else after we have her back. Can you do that for me?”
He nodded once, the nod of someone choosing forward motion.
I left his room and went to find Hazel, and on the way I stopped at the twins’ door. I opened it quietly. They were both awake, sitting up in the dim room, unusually still.
“Is Lana okay?” Elijah junior asked.
He was eight years old. He’d noticed that something was wrong because of course he had.
“We’re looking after her,” I said. Which was true. “I need you both to stay in your room tonight, okay? Not as a punishment. I need you here.”
“Can Lorain stay with us?” Liam asked.
“Yes.” I looked at both of them. “Everything is going to be fine.”
She looked at me over the top of the book when I said it. She was five years old and she had her mother’s instinct for when an adult was holding something back, and I could see her deciding to accept what I’d said anyway because it was what I needed from her.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
I pulled the door closed and went downstairs.
The stall owner was in the holding room, which gave me a destination and a purpose, and both of those things helped. I went to him and sat across from him and looked at him without speaking for long enough that the silence became uncomfortable.
“You had a stall,” I said. “At the military school graduation this afternoon. My son bought water from you.”
He nodded rapidly.
“While my son was paying, someone took my daughter from beside your stall.” I kept my voice completely even. “You saw something.”
“My Queen, I didn’t—”
“You were standing there all afternoon. You saw every person who came near your stall.” I leaned slightly forward. “I’m not asking whether you saw something. I’m asking you to tell me what it was.”
He swallowed. His eyes moved briefly to the door and back.
“He paid me,” the man said finally, very quietly. “Someone paid me to walk away. I didn’t know it was the Princess. I didn’t know what they were going to do. I swear I didn’t know.”
“Describe him,” I said. “Everything. Start now.”