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As I’m on my way down the stairs, my phone buzzes with a message. I pause to read it. It’s Val telling me my mother is home. I glance up the stairs to our bedroom door. Can man beat destiny?
Shaking my head, I continue down the stairs and go out the front door, taking no men with me. I drive to Augustine’s. It’s one of those drives where you’re not quite sure how you got there once you arrive but my mood shifts, darkening upon arrival. I have a bad feeling about what’s coming.
I climb out, hand the keys to a valet and head into the building, onto the private elevator that will lead to the top floor. A soldier is stationed at the door to the apartment where Caius and my mother are living. He nods, knocks on the door and, without waiting for a reply, he opens it and steps aside.
I walk in to find the living room empty.
“Mom?” I call out, walking toward her bedroom.
“Santos? Is that you?” she asks from the study. I walk in to find her sitting behind the desk. “What are you doing here?”
I close the door and look at her. I can’t read my mother. I’ve never been able to read her, apart from that day she confessed about Caius—the moment when I saw her fear, her shame.
I know what you did, and this is your punishment.
The sentence read aloud by the executor of Dad’s will repeats in my head except that I hear my father say the words this time. Did he know about Caius? He wouldn’t punish Mom for what the Commander did to her when she was no more than a girl, though. My father was fair.
But if he learned the truth himself, if he thought she’d lied to him… that he would punish. He couldn’t tolerate lies. Betrayals. He had no mercy for liars and traitors.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts and focus my gaze on her, on now.
“What were you doing at Dr. Fairweather’s office?” I ask outright.
If she’s surprised that I know, it doesn’t show on her face. But there is a moment of silence before she leans back in her chair and tilts her head.
“Phase two,” she says flatly.
It takes me a minute. I guess I expect her to deny her presence there. Or, no, she wouldn’t do that. She’s too smart for that. I expect her to tell me Fairweather is her doctor and ask me what business it is of mine—because that’s what I want this to be. A coincidence. Not a malicious act committed against me or my wife by my mother. Not a betrayal.
“How long have you been having me followed?” she asks.
“Elaborate on phase two,” I say, not bothering to answer her question.
“Lawrence, Dr. Cummings,” she clarifies. “He knows Fairweather. It’s a small town.”
“And?”
“They were having a drink and Fairweather apparently mentioned the house to him. Said he was looking forward to seeing the renovations your father made.”
The door opens behind me, but I don’t turn. My mom’s gaze moves momentarily over my shoulder.
“What’s this?” Caius asks.
“Continue,” I tell my mother.
“I was just asking your brother how long he’s been having me followed,” she tells Caius, who moves to stand against the wall so he’s in my line of vision.
“Mother,” I press.
“Like I said, it’s a small town. So, when Fairweather mentioned his upcoming visit and the purpose of it, well, Lawrence was confused. He had assumed he was your wife’s doctor, not this Fairweather. But apparently you didn’t trust him.”
I glance to Caius who has his arms folded over his chest, feet crossed at the ankles, watching us. The bracelet on his wrist catches my eye before I turn back to our mother.
“What happened to phase two, Santos?” she asks.
“What happened to patient-doctor confidentiality, Mother?”
She snorts, stands to walk over to the side table containing various bottles of vodka and whiskey on a silver tray. She pours herself a drink and turns to face me.
