Then he’s gone, the door slamming behind him with enough force to rattle the crystal decanter on the desk.
The silence he leaves behind is deafening.
Adora sags slightly, like whatever was holding her upright just gave out. I catch her, pulling her against my chest before she can fall.
She’s shaking violently, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
“Breathe,” I murmur, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her head. “Just breathe, doe.”
She fists her hands in my shirt, clinging to me like I’m the only solid thing in her world.
We stand there for a long moment, her trembling against me, my arms wrapped around her like I can shield her from everything that just happened.
Finally, she pulls back slightly, just enough to look up at me. I was expecting her eyes to be bright with unshed tears, but instead they’re glittering with anger.
“Are you crazy? Why did you come here? You could have been killed.”
Her vehemence takes me aback.
“You didn’t need to save me from Dad. I can save myself.”
“When?” I demand, my grip tightening on her upper arms. “How many more bruises is he going to give you before you escape him?”
Her lips part, and then she closes them again. Her thoughts seem to race, and she finally says, “You’ve forced yourself into a marriage with a woman you hate. How is that helping either of us?”
A woman I hate. Is that really what she thinks?
Slowly, I caress her soft skin with my thumbs. “Is it true?”
She blinks, confused. “Is what true?”
“The engagement party.” I force myself to hold her gaze even though every part of me wants to look away from the pain I’m about to cause both of us. “You didn’t know my family would all be murdered. He used you as bait.”
Her face crumples. Fresh tears spill down her cheeks.
“I didn’t know,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “He told me it was a real engagement party and that we were makingpeace. I thought—” A sob cuts off her words and her hands clench on my shirt. “I thought I was going to meet my future husband and his family. I was so nervous. I spent hours choosing my dress. I wanted you to like me. Then they started shooting, and your mother was dying, and I tried to help her but they dragged me away, and…”
Grief lances through me, vivid and overpowering. I thought Mom died alone, terrified and devastated among the bodies of those she loved, but I see the scene anew.
Adora is there, cradling my mother as she took her last breaths.
I pull back just enough to cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “Why didn’t you tell me? All this time, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because they died because of me.” Her words tumble out desperately. “I should have suspected something. Should have done something. It’s all my fault.”
“No.” I grip her urgently. “They died because your father is a murderous, power-hungry bastard. Not because of you.”
She stares at me with those wounded amber eyes. “Whether I knew about it beforehand or not, they’re still dead. I was part of it. You’ll never be able to look at me without remembering that I was the reason they walked into that room. So how is that any different from pulling the trigger myself?”
The guilt in her voice breaks something in me.
“Adora.” I tilt her chin up, making sure she’s looking at me. Really looking at me. “Listen to me. You are not responsible for what he did. You were a victim too.”
“But—”
“No.” I press my thumb gently against her lips, silencing her protest. “You’re his daughter. You trusted him. And he betrayed that trust in the worst possible way.”
A tear slips down her cheek. I catch it with my fingertip, smoothing it away.
