Chapter 16 - William Vance ReturnsThree days after the verdict, Victoria’s father appeared.
William Vance arrived in a black town car, wearing a charcoal suit, polished shoes, and the expression of a man who expected doors to open because they always had.
Victoria watched him from the library window.
She had not seen him since childhood. Eleanor had told her he was too grief-stricken to raise her, too unstable, too distant. Birthday cards had arrived until she turned ten, then stopped.
Now she knew why.
He had not been absent.
He had been useful.
Marcus opened the front door but did not invite him in.
William smiled tightly. “I’m here to see my daughter.”
Victoria came down the hall.
“You don’t have one.”
His smile flickered.
“Victoria.”
“My mother named me Victoria Amelia Rosewood.”
He looked wounded, as if she had insulted him instead of identified herself.
“I know you’re angry.”
She almost laughed.
“Angry is when someone scratches your car. I am something older than angry.”
William glanced past her toward the staircase. “May I come in?”
“No.”
His jaw tightened. “You don’t understand what Amelia was like.”
“There it is,” Victoria said. “The dead woman can’t defend herself, so you brought the same speech.”
“I loved your mother.”
“You signed papers declaring her unstable.”
“I was young.”
“You were a husband.”
He looked away.
“She was going to take you from me.”
Victoria stepped closer. “You helped Eleanor take me from her.”
William’s eyes filled with something like regret.
“Eleanor promised it would be temporary. She said Amelia needed treatment. By the time I realized—”
“Stop.”
He did.
Victoria’s voice shook despite her effort.
“You knew enough to stay rich. You knew enough to stay quiet. You knew enough to let me grow up calling my mother a tragedy instead of a victim.”
William swallowed.
“I came to make things right.”
“You came because the trial mentioned your name.”
He said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Sarah appeared at the top of the stairs, Grace beside her.
William’s eyes widened.
“Sarah.”
Sarah looked at him as if seeing a ghost she had long ago stopped fearing.
“You got old,” she said.
He flinched.
Grace whispered, “Is he family?”
Victoria looked at William.
Blood was easy.
Family was expensive.
It cost truth, loyalty, courage.
William had spent none of those.
“No,” Victoria said softly. “He is history.”
William left without stepping inside.
May you like
For the first time, Victoria did not watch someone abandon her and wonder what she had done wrong.
She closed the door herself.
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