Chapter 19

Langford Mansion

In the study, the tea sitting on the desk had long since gone cold.

The old man paced back and forth, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a path into the slate floor.

Finally, McNeil arrived. Normally striking, his face was drawn with exhaustion, deep shadows pooling beneath his eyes.

He hadn't slept properly in days.

A porcelain teacup clattered to the floor near McNeil's feet, spilling tea everywhere.

"Where is she? The news is all over the place-saying Victoria's dead. Is that really her in the morgue?"

The old man's reaction to the news wasn't shock or grief, but barely contained rage.

McNeil looked as tired as he felt, but there was no sadness in his expression. "No," he answered flatly.

He'd gone straight to the police to identify the body. Of course, it wasn't Victoria.

snowstorm, car out of gas and broken down, just

fifty percent of our family's shares? If she vanishes and decides to come back swinging, you, me-everyone in

cutthroat world of business, priding himself on reading people. But Victoria

again, a woman who'd lost the person

news, all he'd been able to think about

family's shares ever

her away as soon as possible. The Langford family's done more than enough for her. I've played along for your sake, helped save her life,

tell you,

slipping

sooner had he stepped into the hallway than his phone

was Gwyneth, calling from her

find Mommy? Is it true-did Mommy

seen her father in days. That morning, she'd woken up cheerful, eaten breakfast, and gone looking for Violet to chat. Instead,

had thought maybe Mommy had dragged Daddy away again, and that was why Violet was upset. She'd been about to stand up for Violet

Gwyneth had grown close to Violet lately, Victoria was her real mommy. She'd burst into tears right then

unreachable these past few days, Gwyneth's heart was heavy with worry, and she'd lost all

finally getting through to McNeil, the first thing out of her mouth-punctuated

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