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    “Of course, Celeste, I know that. I’m married to Alex, remember?” I lied, letting out a light, almost amused laugh as I stared into her dumb eyes.
    Or at least, what I wanted to believe were dumb eyes. In truth, this woman was anything but. There was a sharpness beneath her doll-like beauty, that made me feel like I should tread lightly.
    I hadn’t known this hospital belonged to Alex, but the revelation didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me, however, was seeing Celeste here. After the strange way I’d been introduced to her, I never thought I’d come across her again. And yet, here she was, standing before me like a ghost I couldn’t shake off.
    Celeste tilted her head slightly, her smirk never faltering, her gaze sharp and unwavering. “What are you doing here?”
    I froze. My mind scrambled for a lie.
    I couldn’t tell her I was here to see my mother. There was something about her that made my instincts scream danger—like she knew Beatrice. And if Beatrice had meant something to Alex—maybe a lover, a fiancée, or worse, a wife—then she probably came from a background much more solid than mine.
    If I said I was visiting my mother, what if she insisted on seeing her too? That could lead to questions, complications, and a disaster I wasn’t ready to face from Alex.
    I needed to thread lightly.
    “I came here to see a friend,” I finally said, forcing a small, casual smile.
    Celeste blinked slowly, as if weighing my words, then let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, really? Okay.”
    She turned away, her blonde hair swaying as she approached the older man I had seen earlier. Her perfectly manicured fingers tapped his shoulder lightly. He lifted his head, his gaze settling on me with a soft, distant smile.
    Something in my chest twisted.
    Celeste leaned in close, her breath brushing against my cheek as she whispered, “He’s a dumb lot.” Her tone was light, almost playful. “Old age is really messing with his brain. He doesn’t even know the difference between white and black anymore.”
    Then she pulled back, her lips curling into a sickly sweet smile. “But anyway, he’s my daddy.”
    I barely heard her.
    My eyes remained locked on the man—her father. He looked unwell. Not just physically, but mentally. There was something in the emptiness of his gaze, in the way his hospital gown hung loosely on his frail body, exposing his tangled ass cheeks that made my heart clench.
    For a moment, I saw my grandmother in him.
    The pink balding middle of his head, the way the gown barely covered his frail frame, tied carelessly at the sides like an afterthought. It wasn’t just neglect. It was disregard. A deep, simmering anger stirred inside me, unexpected but fierce.
    I clenched my fists.
    For the first time since meeting Celeste, I had the overwhelming urge to punch that sickly blonde smile right off her face.
    What kind of person doesn’t at least cover up their sick father?
    I could never do that to my mom.
    Instead, I exhaled and forced a neutral expression. “Nice to meet you, sir,” I said, extending my hand.
    Celeste scoffed. “His name is George.”
    As she helped him sit down, his unsettling smile widened. Not weird, exactly more like unhinged like a lunatic’s grin.
    At least now he was seated and not standing with his ass on full display.
    My heart softened slightly. There was something oddly endearing about him.
    Just as I was about to greet him properly, he reached out, grabbing my fingers and drawing them toward his mouth like a child about to nibble.
    “Oh, Dad, stop that,” Celeste scolded with a laugh, stepping closer. She handed him a stuffed fish toy, and suddenly, everything clicked.
    He was suffering from dementia.
    My throat tightened.
    “Oh,” I murmured.
    For the first time, George spoke. “M-my…my fish…my fish.”
    “Yes, Daddy, here’s your fish,” she said, raising the toy. He eagerly reached for it, giggling like a child.
    Overwhelmed, I took the opportunity to excuse myself.
    “Well, it was nice catching up, Celeste, but I should get going. Don’t want to keep the driver waiting,” I said, forcing another polite smile.
    Celeste’s gaze flickered as she took in my outfit, her eyes scanning me from head to toe.
    “Nice coat,” she murmured.
    A strange feeling crept up my spine.
    I smiled awkwardly and turned to leave, but her voice rang out behind me.
    “Oh, and Isla…”
    I paused.
    “How is Alex?”
    I glanced over my shoulder. “He’s fine.”
    She hummed, twirling a golden strand of hair around her finger. “Oh. Well, you know, we used to be close.” Her lips curved slightly. “I hope you don’t find it weird that I ask about him. He’s a very dear friend.”
    Friend? More like lover.
    The way she had clung to him that night at dinner had been anything but friendly.
    Biting back a sharp retort, I simply said, “No problem. I’ll let him know I bumped into you.”
    Her smirk deepened. “Oh, you don’t have to. He knows I’m here. It’s just that…well, he doesn’t really come to this side of the hospital.”
    My mother had mentioned someone visited her this morning.
    So he did come here.
    But he hadn’t seen Celeste?
    Or… maybe…
    No. Not my business.
    I quickly nodded. “Alright, well, I’ll be on my way.”
    As I left, George’s voice trailed behind me in a childish wail. “My fish! My fish!”
    By the time I reached the reception area, Orbot was already waiting, his face pinched with worry.
    The moment he spotted me, he shot to his feet. “Madam! You took too long,” he fretted. “I didn’t want to leave you alone in this hospital.”
    I sighed. “Calm down, Orbot.”
    “But—”
    I lifted a hand, cutting him off. “This hospital belongs to my husband, doesn’t it?”
    Orbot frowned but nodded. “Yes, but still—”
    “But nothing. I’m fine. Let’s go home.”
    With a resigned sigh, he led me to the car, and we drove back to the estate.
    The moment we arrived, dread settled in my stomach.
    I didn’t want to see Drew. Or his mother.
    The house was big enough for all of us, yet it suddenly felt suffocating. That woman was a witch, and with Alex gone, she’d be free to do whatever she wanted.
    I swallowed.
    What if I ran into her? What if—
    “Madam!”
    I looked up to see Lucy rushing toward me her long black skirt swaying comically.
    She stopped a few steps away, hands wringing. “I hope you’re okay. I’m so sorry about the other day.”
    I frowned. “What do you mean?”
    She bit her lip. “When Madam Gratia slapped you. I… I just stood there. I couldn’t do anything. I’m so sorry.”
    Oh.
    Memories of that humiliating moment…the sting of Gratia’s slap…flashed through my mind.
    I gave her a small smile wondering why she didn’t just apologize this morning when she had style my hair. 
    “Lucy, it’s fine. You don’t have to apologize it’s not like you would’ve been able to help anyways.”
    She still looked troubled, but before she could respond, a scream pierced the air.
    I stiffened.
    Another scream followed. Then another.
    Servants rushed past us. Lucy gasped and ran after them. My legs moved before I could think, heart hammering.
    The cries led me to that room. The one where I’d seen Beatrice’s portrait above the fireplace.
    But the portrait was gone.
    And what I saw inside made my blood run cold.
    Gratia sobbed into a maid’s shoulder. The rest of the staff stood frozen.
    And hanging from the ceiling with a thick black rope biting into pale throat skin completely unclad…….was Nadia.