Chapter 17 - Rosa’s ChoiceLily had spent years turning her aunt into a hero because grief needed heroes.
Rosa Marquez had raised Lily after her parents died. She had worked double shifts, saved every loose dollar, and taught Lily that dignity was something no employer could pay you enough to surrender. When Rosa became ill, she spoke rarely of Hale mansion. When she did, her voice changed.
Not fear exactly.
Shame.
Lily understood that now.
In the early hours after Catherine’s escape, Lily sat alone in the kitchen with Rosa’s letter spread before her. The mansion slept uneasily around her. Agents guarded doors. Victor stayed upstairs with the children. Somewhere beyond the estate gates, Catherine Hale moved through the night with whatever resources remained.
Lily reread the sentence until the words blurred.
I did what Amelia asked until fear made me choose.
Victor entered quietly.
He had removed his jacket. His shirt sleeves were rolled. The bandage on his arm had been changed. He looked exhausted in a way wealth could not hide.
Lily did not look up.
“You should ask me to leave.”
“No.”
“You should at least wonder.”
“I am wondering,” he said.
That honesty hurt less than comfort would have.
Lily nodded.
“I would too.”
Victor sat across from her.
“What did Rosa tell you?”
“That Amelia was afraid before the birth. That Serena visited too often. That Catherine controlled the staff. That if anything happened, I should protect Ethan.”
“Only Ethan?”
Lily closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Victor absorbed that.
“Not Evelyn.”
“No.”
The old house creaked.
Lily wiped her eyes angrily.
“She said, ‘I tried to save the boy, not the girl.’ I thought she was confused. She had fever. Pain medication. She kept mixing memories.”
Victor’s voice was gentle but firm.
“Maybe she wasn’t.”
Lily looked at him.
“Then my aunt left Evie down there.”
“We don’t know that.”
“But she knew.”
The word broke.
She covered her mouth.
Victor reached across the table, then stopped before touching her hand. He let the choice be hers.
After a moment, Lily placed her hand in his.
It was not romance.
It was survival.
“We find out,” he said.
Rosa’s belongings had been stored in Lily’s small apartment in Queens. Victor wanted to send agents. Lily insisted on going. Agent Monroe allowed it with security.
They left before dawn.
Lily had not returned to the apartment since accepting the Hale job. It was on the third floor of an old brick building above a laundromat, small and clean and painfully ordinary after the mansion. A neighbor cried when she saw Lily on the news and hugged her too hard.
Inside, dust lay on the windowsill.
Rosa’s old trunk sat beneath Lily’s bed.
She opened it with shaking hands.
Inside were photographs, prayer cards, recipes, work uniforms folded with care, and a small metal tin of sewing needles.
At the bottom was a sealed envelope.
LILY — WHEN THE HOUSE OPENS
Lily sank onto the floor.
Victor sat beside her but did not touch the envelope.
She opened it.
Rosa’s handwriting was weaker here than in the first letter.
My Lily,
If you are reading this, then the truth has reached the house at last. I am sorry. I was not brave enough to carry it all while I lived.
Mrs. Amelia asked me to get both babies out.
Lily made a broken sound.
Victor went still.
She kept reading.
I reached the nursery after the fire alarm. Serena had the girl. Dr. Reed had the boy. I could not take both. I followed Reed because I believed the boy would be killed that night. I thought the girl would be used, hidden, maybe recoverable. It was a coward’s calculation. I saved Ethan’s life and left Evelyn to the dark.
Victor closed his eyes.
Lily could barely breathe.
Rosa’s letter continued.
I heard Amelia screaming. I heard the fall. I ran with Ethan to the west service hall and placed him where Victor’s nurse would find him. Catherine never knew I had touched him. That is why Ethan stayed alive.
But Evelyn remained in their hands.
I spent three years trying to find proof of where they kept her. By the time I learned of the rooms below the east wing, I was sick, watched, and afraid. I chose survival too many times. Do not make me a saint. I was a woman who saved one child and failed another.
If you enter that house, protect Ethan. Then find Evelyn. And if she hates me, let her.
I loved you. I am sorry.
Rosa.
Lily pressed the letter to her chest and sobbed.
Not neatly.
Not beautifully.
She cried for Rosa, who had been brave and cowardly and human. She cried for Evie, counting in darkness. She cried for Ethan, saved by a woman he would never remember. She cried because Catherine had turned even rescue into guilt.
Victor sat beside her on the floor, silent.
After a long time, Lily whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Victor’s voice was rough.
“Your aunt saved my son.”
“She left your daughter.”
“And spent the rest of her life trying to undo it.”
Lily looked at him through tears.
“How can you say that?”
“Because if Rosa had tried to take both, Catherine might have taken both back. Or killed both stories before they began.”
The words did not absolve Rosa.
But they made breathing possible.
Agent Monroe photographed the letter. Brooks took legal copies. Lily kept the original.
On the drive back, Victor received a call.
He listened, face hardening.
“What?” Lily asked.
“They found Catherine’s escape car.”
“Where?”
“Near the old Hale marina.”
Lily’s stomach sank.
“The river?”
Victor shook his head.
“The yacht is missing.”
By the time they reached the estate, the sun had risen over the Hudson.
And Catherine Hale was gone.
But on Victor’s desk waited a package delivered by courier.
Inside was a child’s wooden block from Ethan and Evie’s tower.
May you like
On it, Catherine had written in black ink:
LAST GAME.
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