“I think you all need to leave,” I said softly, looking down at my daughter, who was just beginning to stir. “My daughter needs to rest. And frankly, the air in here is getting a bit stale.”
Without a word, Eleanor turned on her heel and walked away. Brandon, moving like a ghost, slowly followed her, his head bowed. Madison let out a sharp, frustrated sob, lifting her heavy skirt to run after them, her veil catching on the doorframe and tearing slightly as she fled.
The heavy wooden door clicked shut, sealing out the noise of the hallway, the violins, and the wreckage of the Bennett family.
I looked down at the beautiful, innocent face of my little girl. She opened her eyes for a brief moment—bright, clear, and entirely mine.
“We’re going to be just fine,” I whispered to her, kissing her warm forehead.
