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Elias. August's father. The Unraveler.

“Lily?” Reality snapped back. Adeline's hand was on my arm. “Are you alright?”

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think past the sudden, horrifying clarity. I'd been living in the Unraveler's son's house. Dancing with him. Letting him touch me, hold me, look at me like I was something precious instead of something to be erased.

All while his father—the man who'd weaponized his grief into genocide—waited.

“You knew.” I turned to Adeline, barely able to get the words out. “You knew who his father was.”

Her expression went carefully blank. “Lily⁠—”

“Don't.” My hands were shaking. “Don't lie to me. Not about this.”

Garrick's gaze sharpened, flicking between us with sudden interest.

Adeline's jaw tightened. “This isn't the place.”

“Then where?” The question came out louder than I intended. I forced myself to breathe. “When were you planning to tell me I've been letting his son—” I stopped myself.

“Letting his son what?” Garrick asked quietly.

I didn't answer.

“August is not his father,” Adeline said, each word deliberate. “Whatever you're thinking right now⁠—”

“I'm thinking that I've been a fool.” I reached for my wine glass with trembling fingers. “That I let myself believe—” I stopped again. “It doesn't matter.”

“Doesn't it?” Garrick leaned forward. “Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like it matters quite a lot.”

I met his gaze. “Where is he? Elias Hawthorne.”

“Near the far corner. Don't look.” Adeline's hand found mine under the table, squeezing hard. “Dark graying hair, black coat. Speaking with Lord Pemberton.”

I didn't look. But the weight of his presence now, like a physical thing pressing against my skin.

“You should have told me,” I said to Adeline.

But even as I said it, I was beginning to understand why she hadn't. Because if I'd known—truly known—who August was, who his father was, I would have ran. Or panicked. Or done something that would have exposed the lie keeping me alive.

I'd thought I was playing a part. The visiting cousin with unconventional views. But August hadn't just given me a role to play. He'd put himself between me and his father who would have unraveled me the moment they suspected I was anything but.

I’d misjudged it all. The cold interrogations, the probing questions, every moment August had pushed me away—he’d been maintaining the lie. Keeping me at arm’s length so his father wouldn’t suspect how much I’d gotten under his skin.

And tonight, he'd brought me here. To his father. To the Unraveler. Had danced with me in front of everyone who mattered, making a public claim I hadn't understood until now.

This is Adeline's cousin. She's mine to vouch for. Mine to protect.

“The danger I'm in,” I said finally, meeting Garrick's gaze. “The real danger.”

Garrick's expression softened slightly. “You're only just now realizing that?”

“No.” I reached for my wine with trembling fingers. “I'm just now realizing how much danger August has been keeping me from.”

The table went quiet.

I'd been so angry with him. For the interrogations. For the distance. For dancing with me like I mattered and then walking away like I didn't. But he'd been walking a tightrope. Trying to keep me alive while keeping himself from falling so completely that his father would notice.

And I'd made it harder. By challenging him. By getting under his skin. By making him care when caring was the most dangerous thing he could do.