I bite the inside of my cheek as he tightens his grip.
No one else seems to notice as he goes on about supply chains and material shortages.
The men nod. The women laugh at nothing. The guards stand straighter than they need to.
Every part of this day is a performance.
Why did he even throw this party? I thought we were supposed to be lying low. That's why he moved us to a different country in the middle of nowhere.
"Smile," Ewan murmurs, eyes still on his guests. His thumb presses into the inside of my leg, right where the nerves are thin. "We're celebrating."
Like I give a fuck.
My hand settles over his, and to anyone watching it may look affectionate.
But I'm trying to pry his fingers loose.
He won't let me, his grip digging in instead. He wants me to react. Wants me to give him a reason to punish me later when no one's looking. A quiet war fought in pressure and restraint, invisible to everyone else.
He turns to me with a smile that never reaches his eyes. Something dead floats behind them.
So I stop fighting, honing in on the pain while drinking my wine to keep the scream lodged where it belongs.
By the timedessert is cleared, the sky has turned a soft hue of orange and the guests filter out in clusters. Cars idle at the end of the driveway, and a helicopter whirs somewhere in the distance.
Ewan presses a cold kiss to my temple. "See that everyone leaves without issue. I have an important meeting to get to. Then go rest. You've been pale today."
He leaves as I thank everyone for coming. The women all say the same thing, and the men barely look at me. When the last car drives away, I close the door and head straight to the one place I can breathe.
Hale's room.
I pause when I notice his door is wide open. It's never open unless he's with me.
"Hale?"
He's not here, but his bed is perfectly made, same as this morning. Dinosaur sheets smoothed flat. No socks on the floor. No crayons scattered across the desk. The football he was playing with earlier sits in the corner, and the clothes I put him in this morning are in the laundry basket.
"Hale?" I call out, louder this time.
A housemaid appears in the doorway clutching folded towels.She's new and very young. Ewan likes to rotate staff deliberately, never allowing anyone time to learn too much about us.
"Do you know where my son is?"
Her eyes drop to the floor. "I—I'm not sure."
"It's okay, you can tell me." I touch her shoulder, smiling.
"Mr. Calder had him taken to Mr. Eriksson's cottage." She swallows. "For a change of scenery. He'll be staying overnight to enjoy the lake."
I don't know the Erikssons at all—we just met. All I know is they live near a large body of water, and Hale can't swim.
He's only five and has never been anywhere overnight without me.
No one told me he was leaving. I didn't get to kiss him goodbye or help him grab his things. Did she pack for him?
The maid looks up at me quickly before dropping her eyes again. She's scared, maybe regretting telling me anything in the first place.
"Who took him?"
