Gio noticed the subtle changes in his sister but did not comnt. Ever since the Conway family reached out, Arianne’s attention had shifted. She reacted more slowly than usual, pausing at monts when she believed no one was observing her.
Gio lowered his gaze to the tablet resting on his knee. He knew acknowledging the Conways would reopen matters Arianne had long chosen not to revisit.
"Should I accompany you to the estate?" he asked, drawing Arianne’s attention away from the proposal displayed on her screen.
Arianne lifted her head and considered the suggestion.
"Would you mind?" she asked.
Gio understood how the Conways viewed him. His presence represented a fracture in the narrative they had constructed after Ysabella Conway’s death.
He did not answer imdiately.
"I will go," he said at last.
He would not allow Arianne to face them alone.
Arianne nodded once and did not pursue the matter further.
At ho, Arianne assisted the twins with their night routine. She supervised brushing, checked the windows in their room, and ensured the hallway light remained on before reading a short story at the foot of their bed.
The twins fell asleep without difficulty. Leo’s nightmares had decreased in frequency, though he still searched for Arianne’s presence when he woke unexpectedly.
Once they were asleep, Arianne returned to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. The latch clicked softly.
Gio remained in the sitting room downstairs. The overhead light above the sofa remained on.
Aunt Estella opened the front door just as Franz arrived from the filming set. He stepped inside, carrying his bag over one shoulder.
When Franz noticed Gio’s posture—leaning forward, elbows on his knees—he paused.
"Did sothing happen to Aria?" he asked, placing his bag near the arm of the couch before removing his coat.
He sat across from Gio.
Gio clasped his hands loosely.
"The anniversary of her mother’s death is approaching. The Conways sent a formal request to see her."
Aunt Estella took the seat beside Gio.
"She becos quieter around this ti," she said. "It happens every year."
Then she turned to Gio.
"Why are they asking to et her now?"
Gio exhaled.
"This is only my assumption, but I believe they want her reinstated."
"After all this ti?" Aunt Estella asked.
Franz considered whether to remain silent. His marriage to Arianne began under obligation, but that did not remove his curiosity about her history.
"May I ask how her mother died?" he said.
He regretted the question as soon as he heard it. The room shifted.
"Apologies," he added. "I should not have asked."
"No," Gio replied, though he avoided Franz’s eyes. "You are her husband. It is reasonable for you to know."
Aunt Estella lowered her hands into her lap.
"Aria was thirteen," she said. "Her father had multiple affairs before her mother passed. One evening, after Aria returned from school, she entered the study and found her mother on the floor. There were pills scattered near her."
Her voice remained steady.
"I should have prevented her from seeing it. She was too young."
"The Conways announced that it was a chronic illness," Gio added. "They suppressed the rest. Ysabella Conway had complications after giving birth to Aria. She was unable to have another child."
Franz remained still.
"I was not present then," Gio continued. "But you have likely heard the rumors. That Aria damaged our father’s reputation. They are not inaccurate. She challenged decisions that the Conways preferred to keep private."
Silence settled over the sitting room. It held weight, but no disorder.
No one attempted to fill the space. Aunt Estella folded her hands more tightly in her lap. Gio remained leaning forward, gaze fixed on the carpet rather than on Franz. The overhead light cast clear shadows along the walls, emphasizing how still the room had beco.
Upstairs, a door opened.
The sound carried clearly down the staircase. A brief pause followed, as if she had stopped midway in the hallway. Then footsteps approached the top of the stairs before descending one step at a ti. No one spoke while she ca into view.
Arianne descended the staircase. She had changed into a dark coat, her hair secured at the nape of her neck. Her expression remained composed.
She stopped at the base of the stairs.
"I’m going out for a while."
Aunt Estella straightened slightly. "Now?"
"Yes."
Gio understood. "The cetery?"
Arianne inclined her head.
Franz rose.
"I’ll drive."
She looked at him briefly. The offer was evaluated, not resisted.
"All right."
The drive proceeded in silence. Streetlights thinned as they entered the older district where the Conway burial grounds were separated from the public cetery by a wrought-iron gate.
The caretaker approached the driver’s window before unlocking the gate.
The gravel path curved inward toward aligned marble headstones. The ground was damp.
Arianne walked ahead. Franz remained close enough to follow without overtaking her.
She stopped before a stone bearing a simple inscription.
Ysabella Conway.
No additional engraving beyond the dates.
Arianne stood upright. She did not touch the stone imdiately.
After several seconds, she adjusted the bouquet placed at the base. The ribbon had loosened. She secured it and cleared a fallen leaf from the marble surface.
Franz noted the year carved beneath the na.
Thirteen.
He did not speak.
A breeze shifted across the cetery. Arianne did not react to it.
"They declared it a chronic illness," she said. "The statent was drafted before the funeral."
"You knew?" Franz asked.
"I reviewed the release before it was distributed."
Her tone did not change.
Several steps away, another headstone displayed the Conway crest more prominently. She did not turn toward it.
"They prioritized continuity," she said. "Public disruption affects inheritance."
Franz understood the implication.
"And you?" he asked.
She stepped back, returning to the sa distance she had maintained earlier.
"I was thirteen," she said. "Continuity was not my concern."
She had attended the funeral surrounded by executives rather than relatives. Reporters had been held at a distance. Statents were issued before condolences were received. She had stood beside the casket and understood that the narrative had already been decided.
No further explanation followed.
Franz removed his gloves and placed them in his coat pocket before stepping beside her instead of remaining behind. He did not reach for her.
Arianne noticed but did not comnt.
"We should leave."
He agreed.
They walked back along the gravel path at the sa pace. Franz opened the car door for her. She entered without remark.
When the engine started, neither spoke.
The estate gates would open the following morning.
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