Page 119 of The Devil’s Lair

Wren shuffles closer to me, her warm palm landing on my thigh. “I’m so sorry, Tobias. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t not tell you.”

I stare at the book upended on my carpet, my mind racing. “You did the right thing.” I sound wooden, my brain scrambling to put all the pieces in order. “I need to see my father.”

I don’t remember getting to my feet or pitching through the door and hurtling down the stairs. It’s only when I’m outside Dad’s office that I register moving at all. The diary I must have picked up before I left my living room burns in my hands.

Alice.

All this time, it was Alice. George is far, far from blameless, but Alice took Annabel from us. She set the wheels in motion that led to those bastards raping and strangling my sister. And Mum. Xan always believed there was someone behind his and Annabel’s kidnapping. But Mum… she didn’t leave us. She was murdered in cold blood.

My father isn’t in his office. I march to his personal living room and find him sitting by the fireplace, sipping on a cup of tea, a book laying in his lap. God, this is awful. Awful. Why me? I don’t want to be the one to tell him, but there’s nothing I can do. He deserves to know. We all do.

“Dad.”

He looks up, his wise, wrinkled face breaking into a smile. “Tobias. Good morning.” Just like mine had with Rebecca, Dad’s smile falls. “What’s wrong?”

My shoulders bow under the weight of a decades-old secret pitched into the blinding light. There’s no hiding from what’s about to come. “Everything.”

Setting down his cup and his book, he motions to the wing-backed chair opposite his. “Sit down.”

I do. A good idea considering how badly my thighs are trembling. I run a hand through my hair. “Can you get Xan here? And Nicholas. In fact, everyone should be here.”

It’s Sunday morning, so there’s a good chance we’re all in the house somewhere.

Dad, my wonderful, brilliant father, asks not one single question. He picks up his phone and messages the family group chat. While we wait for the others to assemble, I take the time to organize my thoughts.

Nicholas is the first to arrive, followed by Christian, Saskia, and finally, Xan. My brothers’ wives are notably absent. I guess Dad must’ve made that decision when I came alone, without Rebecca. I’m glad. It’s better they hear this from their respective spouses when the first thunderbolt of shock has receded.

I’ve no idea what Xan will do. He’s the wild card. Whatever it is, though, I’ll stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him, just as he and my brothers did last night when I needed them to support me.

“Looking a bit serious for a Sunday, Tobias.” Saskia flops onto the couch to my right. “Wet the bed again?” She laughs, while I can’t even muster a small smile. Her eyebrows lower.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It doesn’t help.

“Son, go ahead,” Dad coaxes. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The only way to do this is fast. I fix my attention on Xan.

“Alice is behind your kidnapping.” Shifting my gaze to Dad, I add, “And she killed Mum.”

It’s a cliché to say that you could hear a pin drop, but it’s true. I scan the shocked faces of my siblings. Xan could not look anymore stunned than if I’d punched him in the face outside of the boxing ring. Nicholas’s jaw is on the floor. Christian keeps blinking like he’s got something in his eye. And Saskia’s hand is pressed to her mouth as though she’s afraid of what might come out.

It’s Dad who speaks first. “How do you know?”

To a stranger, it would seem like he’s questioning me. He isn’t. He already knows I’m telling the truth and is asking for the evidence.

I pass him the diary. “It’s all in here. The relevant pages are folded over.”

Silence returns as Dad flicks through the diary, his features clouding with each page he turns. When he finishes, he snaps it shut.

“Alan,” he shouts.

A moment later, his butler appears. “Yes, sir.”

“Have Alice brought to me immediately.”

Alan bows and backs out of the room.

“So, it’s true, then?” Christian murmurs.