The ride back was quiet.
Grace sat in the back seat, her eyes fixed on the city lights that blurred past the window.
Her mind was racing. Mrs. Raymond's voice still echoing in her head. The baby. The fear. The disappearance.
When the car stopped in front of the Cole mansion, Grace sat still for a moment before stepping out.
The air was cool and heavy. She needed to see Donald, to tell him everything.
The maid told her he was in the study.
Grace hesitated for a second, then pushed the door open.
Donald was standing by the window, a faint light from the desk lamp falling across his face.
He looked tired, not the cold, untouchable man she first met, but someone carrying too many secrets.
He turned when he heard her steps.
"You're back," he said quietly.
Grace nodded. "I went to see her."
Donald's brows pulled together. "Who?"
"The nurse," Grace said softly. "The one who treated Mrs. Bernard before she disappeared."
He didn't speak, but his eyes sharpened. Grace walked closer, her voice low but steady. "Her name is Mrs. Raymond. She told me that Mrs. Bernard gave birth before she vanished.
She said Mrs. Bernard was afraid for her life. She believed her husband's death wasn't an accident."
Donald's jaw tightened. "And then?"
Grace swallowed. "Mrs. Raymond left the room for a few minutes. When she came back, Mrs. Bernard and her son were gone. The hospital said they checked out to the Cole mansion. But no one ever heard from her again."
The air in the room felt still.
Donald's face didn't change much, but Grace could tell he was processing every word.
"She tried to find her," Grace went on. "Hired investigators. One disappeared, another was killed. Her daughter was kidnapped. They threatened her to stop searching. She left town."
Donald walked closer, his eyes on the floor, his hand brushing his hair back. "They made sure no one would ever know," he muttered.
Grace nodded. "That's what it looks like. Even the hospital records were burned."
Silence filled the room.
Then Donald looked up, and for a moment, Grace saw something raw in his eyes, anger, but also pain.
"You shouldn't have gone there alone," he said quietly.
Grace gave a small, tired smile. "I couldn't wait. I had to know."
"You could've been hurt," he said, his voice tight.
"I was careful."
He stepped closer. His voice softened. "You don't understand. If anything happened to you…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Grace looked at him, her heart beating fast. "Why does it sound like you care too much?"
Donald's eyes met hers. "Because I do."
The words came out low and rough. Grace didn't move. She just stood there, staring at him, unsure of what to say.
To ease the tension, she stepped away and walked toward the wall of photographs, the same ones she'd noticed the first time she came here.
Donald followed her slowly, his steps quiet.
Grace's eyes moved from one frame to another, Donald as a baby, as a boy, growing into the man he was now. His life captured in moments frozen behind glass.
Her gaze stopped at one of the baby pictures. Something about those eyes: the shape, the depth, it looked familiar.
She frowned slightly.
She'd seen those eyes before.
In another picture.
The thought flashed through her mind like a spark.
She blinked it away almost instantly. No. It couldn't be
Behind her, Donald spoke softly. "What are you thinking about?"
Grace turned and forced a small smile. "Nothing. Just… memories."
He studied her for a moment, like he didn't believe her, but didn't push.
Grace turned back to the pictures. Her chest felt tight, but she couldn't explain why.
Then, her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down. A new message.
It was from Donald.
"Meet me in the garden after dinner. There's something I need to tell you."
Grace blinked and looked up at him, but he was already walking toward the door.
"Donald?" she called softly.
He stopped but didn't turn around. "Just come," he said, and left the study.
Grace stood there, staring at the closed door. Then her eyes went back to the baby picture one more time.
Those eyes again.
They wouldn't leave her mind.
She took a slow breath and slipped her phone into her pocket.
Whatever he wanted to tell her tonight — she had a feeling it was only the beginning.