But Sophie ate two.
More importantly, when Mrs. Donnelly came in to clear the setting, Sophie stared down at her fork and whispered, “I’m sorry about the mouse.”
Mrs. Donnelly softened immediately. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Sophie flinched at the kindness, unaccustomed to it.
Dominic watched from the head of the table, his face unreadable.
But when he departed for work that morning, he lingered beside Sophie’s chair.
He did not embrace her. He didn’t know how.
He simply touched the back of her hair once, clumsily, and said, “I’ll be home for dinner.”
Sophie pretended to be indifferent.
But after he exited, she looked at Grace.
“He won’t.”
“He said he would.”
“People say things.”
Grace recognized that specific bitterness. Children learned it from letdowns.
“Then we’ll see what kind of man he is.”
That evening, Dominic walked in at 8:17 p.m.
Tardy.
But present.
Sophie had already informed Grace three times that she was not waiting for him.
When he entered the dining room, she stared at him as if he had performed a miracle by appearing.
He looked ill at ease. “My meeting ran long.”
Sophie looked down at her meal. “But you came.”
Dominic’s voice went gruff. “Yes.”
That was the first stitch.
Small.
Uneven.
But real.
Over the following month, Grace discovered that Sophie’s outbursts followed a code.
She broke things before doctor visits. She crawled under furniture during storms. She rejected red sauce because it resembled fire in low light. She panicked near men who smelled of wintergreen.
The last detail unsettled Grace most.
She uncovered it on a Thursday afternoon when Dominic’s elder cousin, Victor Hale, visited the house.
Victor bore no resemblance to Dominic. He was softer, with silver hair, elegance, a polished grin, and pale eyes that remained too still. He wore a cream cashmere overcoat and held a cane he didn’t require.
The instant he entered the library, Sophie went rigid.
Grace felt the child’s fingers grip her sleeve.
Victor smiled. “There’s my little hurricane.”
Sophie retreated behind Grace.
Dominic, standing near the hearth, scowled. “Sophie. Say hello to Uncle Victor.”
“No.”
Victor chuckled. “Still spirited. Elena was like that. Stubborn beauty, God rest her soul.”
As he drew nearer, Grace smelled it.
Wintergreen.
Pungent. Sharp. Minty.
Sophie’s breathing spiked.
Grace crouched down instantly, placing her body between Sophie and Victor.
“Look at me,” Grace whispered. “Feet on the floor. Find five things you can see.”
Sophie’s lips shook. “No.”
“Five things.”
“Books,” Sophie whispered. “Lamp. Window. Your necklace. His cane.”
Victor’s grin faded.
Grace looked up and saw him observing not Sophie, but her.
Assessing.
Dominic noticed as well. “Is there a problem?”
“None at all,” Victor said smoothly. “I only came to discuss the waterfront vote. Family business.”
Family business meant Grace was expected to depart.
She didn’t.
Sophie held on tighter.
Dominic’s focus shifted to his daughter’s hand clutching Grace’s arm.
“Later,” he told Victor.
Victor’s eyes grew cold.
“Dominic, this is urgent.”
“My daughter is upset.”
“She is always upset. That is why you hire help.”
The room went silent.
Grace stood up slowly.
Dominic’s voice dropped. “Choose your next words carefully.”
Victor opened his palms. “I meant no insult. I worry about you. About her. A child in that condition is vulnerable. Easily influenced.”
His eyes darted toward Grace.
There it was.
The threat beneath the etiquette.
Grace had dealt with landlords, collectors, doctors, and men who smiled while stripping you of everything. She identified a polite warning.
After Victor departed, Sophie got sick in the corridor.
Grace stayed with her on the bathroom floor, pulling her hair back while the girl shivered.
Dominic stood outside the door, paralyzed.
When Sophie finally drifted off, Grace found him in the kitchen, still in his formal wear, staring into space.
“She’s afraid of him,” Grace stated.
Dominic’s eyes rose. “Victor helped raise me.”
“That doesn’t answer anything.”
“He loved Elena.”
“Did she love him?”
Dominic’s face went hard. “Be careful.”
Grace stepped closer. “Sophie said something the night I met her. She said not to trust the man with the mint.”
Dominic went completely motionless.
Grace went on, “Victor smells like wintergreen.”
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