The terrible, finality of Derek's words—"Ryan would be dead"—sucked all the remaining strength from Lorena's body. She was a hollowed-out shell, kneeling on the rich carpet of the Dowager's chamber, her plot, her hatred, and her entire life exposed and in ruins.
Marissa took a slow step forward. Her voice was not loud, but it was filled with a cold fury that cut through the heavy silence of the room.
"Lorena," she said, her voice a low, trembling hiss. "You jealous and scheming woman. You framed me, you exiled me, all for your own selfish desire for power." She took another step, looming over the broken woman. "You could have done anything you wanted to me. But you involved a child. You dared to harm a child."
At the mention of Ryan, Lorena's broken sobs redoubled. This was her last, her only, her most desperate plea. She scrambled forward on her hands and knees, ignoring Marissa, and clutched at the hem of Beatrice's nightgown.
