PART 2<\/p>\n
By midnight, the house had settled into the quiet rhythm of sleeping people.<\/p>\n
I remained in my study with the lamps turned low, listening to rain tap against the tall windows. The sound should have been peaceful. Instead, every drop seemed to mark the passing of time.<\/p>\n
Somewhere upstairs, Vivien slept beneath the same roof as me.<\/p>\n
Or pretended to.<\/p>\n
Rocco stood near the fireplace, holding a thin folder between two fingers.<\/p>\n
He had worked for my family long enough to know when silence was more useful than speech. Usually, he was calm in a way that made other men uneasy. Tonight, even he looked thoughtful.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou found something,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cSeveral things,\u201d he replied. \u201cBut none of them explain everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStart with what you can prove.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rocco opened the folder.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor the last three months, Vivien has been receiving payments from a consulting firm called Bellwether Advisory.\u201d<\/p>\n
I leaned back in my chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo they have an office?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey have a registered address. A rented mailbox in a business center. No employees listed beyond a secretary who has never met Vivien.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSmall transfers. Regular ones. Every Friday.\u201d<\/p>\n
He placed a sheet on my desk.<\/p>\n
The amounts were modest enough to avoid attention\u2014five hundred here, eight hundred there. Not the kind of money that suggested a criminal operation. More like a personal allowance, carefully divided into payments too ordinary to raise questions.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho owns Bellwether?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA holding company. That holding company belongs to another holding company.\u201d Rocco paused. \u201cWe followed the chain as far as we could without alerting anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe final name disappears behind a trust registered in Switzerland.\u201d<\/p>\n
I studied the page.<\/p>\n
A secret payment could mean many things. Debt. Blackmail. A private family obligation. A business arrangement Vivien had concealed from me.<\/p>\n
But it did not explain Elena.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnything connected to the house?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rocco turned to another page.<\/p>\n
\u201cTwo weeks before Bellwether began paying her, Vivien hired a private security consultant to inspect the property.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cWithout telling me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe told the consultant she was worried about safety.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat sounds reasonable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt would,\u201d Rocco said, \u201cif the inspection had been for the gates or the cameras.\u201d<\/p>\n
He slid a photograph across the desk.<\/p>\n
It showed a man in a dark jacket standing near the rear entrance. I recognized him vaguely. He had appeared at the house once or twice, always carrying a leather case.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did he inspect?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot the security system. The staff routines.\u201d<\/p>\n
My fingers tightened around the photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cExplain.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe asked when the household emptied for dinner. Which rooms were locked. Who had keys. When Elena took Mia outside. Whether you ever visited the nursery.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room seemed to grow colder.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid anyone answer him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Bellini did. She thought he was conducting a standard property review.\u201d Rocco\u2019s expression hardened. \u201cHe also spoke with Vivien in the garden.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she know he was asking about Elena?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo one knows what they discussed.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood and walked toward the window.<\/p>\n
Below, the garden lights shimmered on wet stone. The mansion looked beautiful from the outside\u2014warm, ordered, protected. But I had begun to understand how easily a house could become a maze when its inhabitants kept secrets.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is the consultant now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGone. He closed his business two weeks ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFind him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m trying.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTry harder.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rocco accepted the rebuke without reacting.<\/p>\n
After a moment, he said, \u201cThere\u2019s something else.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cSeveral employees have noticed that Vivien spends time in the old west wing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat wing is closed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly.\u201d<\/p>\n
The west wing had been unused since my father died. Its rooms were dusty, its furniture covered in linen, its windows rarely opened. My mother had kept a small private office there, but after her stroke, she moved to the southern apartments where the halls were brighter and easier to navigate.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Vivien have a key?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe requested one from the housekeeper.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said your mother had asked her to retrieve family documents.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother never told me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rocco looked down at the papers.<\/p>\n
\u201cI checked the room.\u201d<\/p>\n
My attention sharpened.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you find?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing obvious. But the desk had been used recently. There was dust on the floor except near the left drawer.\u201d<\/p>\n
He placed a second photograph on the desk.<\/p>\n
It showed an old wooden desk with one drawer slightly open.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you search it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot yet. I thought you should decide.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward the door.<\/p>\n
The house was silent.<\/p>\n
Vivien had spent the evening beside me, smiling as if nothing had changed. She had touched my arm during dinner and asked whether I wanted coffee. I had almost answered honestly.<\/p>\n
That was the part that troubled me most.<\/p>\n
I had loved her before I suspected her.<\/p>\n
Perhaps I still did.<\/p>\n
Love did not vanish simply because trust had begun to fracture. It lingered like warmth in a room after the fire had gone out, confusing the senses and making certainty impossible.<\/p>\n
\u201cSearch it,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Rocco left without another word.<\/p>\n
I remained at the window until my reflection replaced the garden.<\/p>\n
The man looking back at me seemed older than he had that morning.<\/p>\n
I had spent my life believing that danger announced itself. A raised voice. A suspicious face. A broken lock. Something obvious enough to meet with action.<\/p>\n
But the most dangerous secrets rarely entered through broken doors.<\/p>\n
They arrived with familiar footsteps.<\/p>\n
The next morning, I found Elena in the small laundry room behind the kitchen. She was folding towels with careful precision, though her hands shook slightly.<\/p>\n
When she saw me, she straightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood morning, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLorenzo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her gaze lifted, then lowered again.<\/p>\n
I closed the door behind me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want to ask you about Vivien.\u201d<\/p>\n
The towel in her hands stopped moving.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry. I should not have\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t need to apologize.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe told me not to speak to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is precisely why I\u2019m asking.\u201d<\/p>\n
Elena looked toward the narrow window. Beyond it, the rain had softened to mist.<\/p>\n
\u201cMia is in the playroom,\u201d she said. \u201cMrs. Bellini is with her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s safe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d Elena swallowed. \u201cBut safety can change quickly in a house like this.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was no accusation in her voice. Only weariness.<\/p>\n
I pulled out a chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cSit down.\u201d<\/p>\n
She hesitated before obeying.<\/p>\n
For a moment, neither of us spoke.<\/p>\n
I wanted to ask why she had waited three months. Why she had not come to me. Why she had allowed fear to grow around her daughter.<\/p>\n
But I knew the answer before she gave it.<\/p>\n
People did not stay silent because they enjoyed secrets. They stayed silent because speaking seemed more dangerous than suffering quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did Vivien want from you?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Elena folded her hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cAt first, she asked questions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout your family. About your mother. About the people who visit the house.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she threaten you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Elena\u2019s eyes moved toward the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said I should be grateful to work here. She said women like me did not receive many second chances.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat isn\u2019t an answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d She looked at me directly. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t a threat at first. It was advice. That made it harder to understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her honesty unsettled me more than anger would have.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat changed?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe began asking about Mia.\u201d<\/p>\n
I kept my voice gentle.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did she ask?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhether Mia\u2019s father had ever contacted us. Whether I had family outside the city. Whether I would leave if I found another job.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI said no to some things. I didn\u2019t answer others.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would she care where you went?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought she wanted me gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
That seemed plausible. Vivien had always been particular about the household. She disliked noise, disorder, and anything she could not control. Perhaps Elena\u2019s presence irritated her. Perhaps she believed a maid\u2019s child did not belong in the main house.<\/p>\n
But then I remembered Vivien\u2019s words.<\/p>\n
Children wander. Gates get left open.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did she mean when she said your daughter could disappear?\u201d<\/p>\n
Elena\u2019s face went pale.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said it once in the garden. Then again outside the nursery.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she touch Mia?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d Elena answered quickly. \u201cNever. Vivien was careful. That was what frightened me. She always spoke softly.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat opposite her, feeling shame rise in me.<\/p>\n
I had brought Vivien into this house. I had trusted her near my family. I had given her authority without understanding what she wanted.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Elena gave a tired smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause you are kind to Mia.\u201d<\/p>\n
The statement surprised me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI barely see her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is not true. You stop when she calls you Uncle Lorenzo. You listen when she shows you things. Most men in your position would smile once and walk away.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does that have to do with anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything.\u201d Elena looked down at her hands. \u201cIf I told you, and you believed Vivien instead of me, I would lose my work. If you believed me, you might send her away. Then she would blame Mia. Either way, my daughter would remain in this house while adults argued about her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her words landed quietly, but they carried more weight than accusation.<\/p>\n
She had not trusted me to protect them.<\/p>\n
Not because I was cruel.<\/p>\n
Because I was powerful, distracted, and in love with the wrong person.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Elena\u2019s eyes filled, though she did not cry.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor making you think you had to solve this alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked away.<\/p>\n
\u201cPeople often say that after the danger has passed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt hasn\u2019t passed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d Her voice trembled. \u201cIt hasn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
I leaned forward.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Vivien ever mention a name?\u201d<\/p>\n
Elena frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat name?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnyone connected to these questions. A relative. A business. A place.\u201d<\/p>\n
She searched her memory.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnce, she said the name Daria.\u201d<\/p>\n
The word meant nothing to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaria who?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. She was speaking on the phone. I was cleaning the corridor, and she didn\u2019t see me. She said, \u2018Daria should have handled this years ago.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen was that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout a month ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnything else?\u201d<\/p>\n
Elena\u2019s fingers tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe also said, \u2018Lorenzo cannot know until the papers are signed.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt the air leave my lungs.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat papers?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she say what they concerned?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. But she mentioned your mother afterward.\u201d<\/p>\n
The conversation left me with more questions than answers.<\/p>\n
When Elena returned to work, I remained in the laundry room, staring at the folded towels.<\/p>\n
My mother.<\/p>\n
Vivien.<\/p>\n
A woman named Daria.<\/p>\n
And papers I knew nothing about.<\/p>\n
By noon, Rocco had searched the west wing.<\/p>\n
He found the old desk open.<\/p>\n
Inside the left drawer were several envelopes tied with faded blue ribbon. They contained nothing remarkable\u2014property tax records, old correspondence, insurance documents, and a list of household employees from twelve years earlier.<\/p>\n
Beneath them, however, lay a small brass key.<\/p>\n
It was stamped with a number.<\/p>\n
Seven.<\/p>\n
\u201cSeven what?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Rocco placed it on the desk.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don\u2019t know yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnything else?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA receipt.\u201d<\/p>\n
He handed it to me.<\/p>\n
The paper was creased and yellowed, but the date was clear.<\/p>\n
Three months earlier.<\/p>\n
The purchase was from a private archive in the city: one certified copy of a birth record and one sealed legal file.<\/p>\n
The customer name had been written by hand.<\/p>\n
Vivien Moretti.<\/p>\n
My heartbeat quickened.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan we access the archive?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot without a court order. But I know someone who can ask questions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAsk.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rocco nodded.<\/p>\n
I turned the receipt over.<\/p>\n
On the back, someone had written a sentence in blue ink.<\/p>\n
Not Vivien\u2019s handwriting.<\/p>\n
I recognized the uneven letters immediately.<\/p>\n
My mother\u2019s.<\/p>\n
The message was only six words.<\/p>\n
Ask why Daria never came home.<\/p>\n
I read it twice.<\/p>\n
Then a third time.<\/p>\n
My mother\u2019s health had declined several years earlier, but she had remained lucid. She rarely spoke about the past, preferring silence whenever my father\u2019s name arose. I had assumed grief had made certain memories painful.<\/p>\n
Daria.<\/p>\n
The name had not appeared in our family conversations for as long as I could remember.<\/p>\n
I called my mother\u2019s nurse, Clara, and asked whether she knew anyone by that name.<\/p>\n
There was a pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaria Bellini?\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat down.<\/p>\n
\u201cBellini?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOur housekeeper\u2019s surname?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Mrs. Bellini\u2019s older sister.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remembered Mrs. Bellini mentioning a sister once, years ago. A woman who had lived abroad. Or perhaps I had misunderstood.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened to her?\u201d<\/p>\n
Clara lowered her voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe left the household suddenly, before I began working here. Your mother spoke of it only once.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did she say?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat Daria had taken something that did not belong to her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat thing?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the brass key.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she ever return?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot that I heard.\u201d<\/p>\n
After the call, I sat alone for several minutes.<\/p>\n
The housekeeper, Mrs. Bellini, had been with my family for twenty-two years. She had cared for me after my father\u2019s death, remembered my childhood illnesses, and knew every room in the mansion better than anyone.<\/p>\n
Why had she never mentioned a sister?<\/p>\n
Perhaps because family secrets were not limited to the people who owned large houses.<\/p>\n
I found Mrs. Bellini in the conservatory, pruning dead leaves from a row of lemon trees. She was in her late sixties, small and straight-backed, with silver hair pinned neatly at her neck.<\/p>\n
She saw my expression and set down the shears.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat has happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI need to ask you about Daria.\u201d<\/p>\n
The color drained from her face.<\/p>\n
For several seconds, she seemed unable to move.<\/p>\n
Then she sat on the nearest bench.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho told you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes it matter?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d She folded her hands. \u201cI suppose it doesn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour sister worked here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe left suddenly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bellini stared at the glass ceiling above us. Rainwater ran down the panes in silver trails.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe made a mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA serious one.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat tells me nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt tells you enough to understand why I kept quiet.\u201d<\/p>\n
I took the bench opposite her.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she steal from my family?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was accused of stealing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWas she guilty?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bellini closed her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
The answer surprised me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDaria worked in the west wing. She helped your mother with personal correspondence. One day, a sealed envelope disappeared from the desk.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was inside?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was never told.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Daria?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe vanished before anyone could question her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVanished?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe left a note saying she was afraid. Your father sent people to find her, but she had already gone. After that, your mother refused to speak of her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does Vivien have to do with this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bellini looked at me sharply.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat woman asked about Daria.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSeveral weeks ago. She wanted to know where Daria had lived before coming here. She asked whether Daria had a daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n
A pulse began beating at my temple.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Daria have a daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Bellini.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI truly don\u2019t know. Daria never spoke about her family. She was private.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would Vivien search for her?\u201d<\/p>\n
The housekeeper\u2019s gaze lowered.<\/p>\n
\u201cPerhaps you should ask Vivien.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is what I intend to do. But first, tell me everything you remember.\u201d<\/p>\n
She was silent for so long that I thought she might refuse.<\/p>\n
Then she said, \u201cDaria was not a thief.\u201d<\/p>\n
The conviction in her voice was unmistakable.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe made mistakes, yes. She could be secretive. But she did not steal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened to the envelope?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat if it contained something valuable?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen perhaps the value was not money.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her words echoed through me.<\/p>\n
I thought of the receipt. The birth record. The sealed legal file. The message my mother had written.<\/p>\n
Ask why Daria never came home.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid my mother know where Daria went?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bellini looked toward the rain-streaked glass.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother knew more than she told anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause she believed silence protected you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Before she could answer, footsteps sounded outside the conservatory.<\/p>\n
Vivien entered carrying a white umbrella.<\/p>\n
Her eyes moved from me to Mrs. Bellini, then to the shears resting on the bench.<\/p>\n
For the first time since I had known her, her expression revealed nothing at all.<\/p>\n
\u201cLorenzo,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019ve been looking for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you?\u201d<\/p>\n
She smiled, but the warmth did not reach her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted to discuss the wedding arrangements.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bellini rose quietly.<\/p>\n
Vivien watched her leave, then closed the conservatory door.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is this about?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaria Bellini.\u201d<\/p>\n
The change in her face was subtle, but I saw it.<\/p>\n
A brief tightening around the mouth. A flicker of recognition. Then composure.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know anyone by that name.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour private investigator searched for her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have no idea what you mean.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou purchased a birth record and a sealed legal file from the city archive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her lips parted slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cLorenzo\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo not lie to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
The words came out sharper than I intended.<\/p>\n
Vivien looked wounded, but she did not retreat.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen ask me what you really want to know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho is Daria?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you, I don\u2019t know her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy were you asking about her daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n
She went still.<\/p>\n
That was answer enough.<\/p>\n
I stepped closer, though I kept my voice calm.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho is she?\u201d<\/p>\n
Vivien looked past me toward the rain.<\/p>\n
When she spoke, the confidence had left her voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t come here to hurt anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is not what I asked.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d She folded her arms as if holding herself together. \u201cYou asked who Daria\u2019s daughter is.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n
Vivien\u2019s eyes returned to mine.<\/p>\n
Then she said the one thing I had not been prepared to hear.<\/p>\n
\u201cElena.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
PART 2 By midnight, the house had settled into the quiet rhythm of sleeping people. I remained in my study with the lamps turned low, … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":17417,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8,9,2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18719","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","category-inspiration","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18719","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=18719"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18719\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18720,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18719\/revisions\/18720"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/17417"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=18719"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=18719"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailystoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=18719"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}