Chapter 5: Everything She Said With a Smile
Sera didn't move from the doorway.
She had the kind of stillness that wasn't calm — it was calculation wearing calm's clothes.
Her coat was camel-colored, expensive, belted at the waist.
Her coffee cup from this morning felt like a different lifetime.
"You should be in bed," she said to me.
"After a fall like that."
"I'm comfortable here," I said.
"I'm sure you are." Her eyes moved to Gideon.
"I didn't realize you'd brought her back already."
"The hospital discharged her this morning."
"And you went to collect her personally." She tilted her head.
"That's very attentive, Gideon.
Even for you."
"She's my father's nurse, Sera.
Her being here matters to his care."
"Of course it does." She finally stepped into the room.
Her eyes moved across the wardrobe, the bed, the window, landing on each surface the way a hand checks a pocket.
"I was just thinking — perhaps this incident is a sign.
The agency could find someone with more experience.
Someone less—" she glanced at my splinted wrist "—accident-prone."
"She didn't have an accident," Gideon said.
The room temperature dropped.
Sera's smile didn't waver.
"The floor was slippery.
She fell.
I'm not sure what other word you'd use."
"I'd use the word oil," Gideon said.
"Deliberately placed.
On a staircase she used every morning at the same time."
"That's a serious accusation."
"I haven't accused anyone."
"You implied it."
"I stated a fact." He looked at her without expression.
"Do you know how the oil got there, Sera?"
She laughed.
It was a light, easy sound.
"How would I know that?
I was asleep."
"Walter saw you on the back staircase at five forty."
The laugh stopped.
Not abruptly — it faded, the way a light dims before it goes out.
"Walter is an old man who wanders the house at odd hours," she said.
"I couldn't sleep.
I went down for water.
I don't see why that's relevant."
"Did you go into the kitchen?"
"I may have.
I don't remember exactly."
"The oil was concentrated on the lowest three steps and the landing," Gideon said.
"You would have had to step over it to reach the kitchen."
Something moved behind her eyes.
"I didn't notice anything on the stairs, Gideon.
It was dark.
I wasn't looking at the floor."
"You came down barefoot and didn't feel it?"
A pause.
Brief.
Controlled.
"I was wearing slippers."
"Which slippers?"
Her chin lifted.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Which slippers, Sera.
The wool ones or the leather-soled ones you bought in Florence."
She stared at him.
"This is absurd," she said.
"You're interrogating me about my footwear because a nurse wasn't careful on the stairs."
"I'm asking a simple question."
"And I'm telling you I find it insulting." She turned to me.
Her voice shifted — softer now, almost sympathetic.
"I hope you feel better soon, Adeline.
I really do.
But I think you'll agree that a house like this, with my father's needs, requires someone very steady.
Very experienced.
Perhaps when you've recovered, the agency can discuss a different placement."
She said it gently.
The way you say something you want to sound like kindness and know is a threat.
I looked at her directly.
"I appreciate your concern," I said.
"But Mr.
Marquetti's care team and I have a very good rhythm.
I wouldn't want to disrupt his schedule."
Her eyes narrowed.
Just slightly.
"His schedule," she repeated.
"His eight o'clock cardiac medication.
His eleven o'clock blood pressure check.
His afternoon walk when the weather allows.
He told me yesterday he's been sleeping better since I adjusted his evening routine." I paused.
"He mentioned it to you as well, I think.
He said you seemed surprised."
The smile was entirely gone now.
"My father talks a great deal," she said.
"He does," I agreed.
"He's very clear-minded for his age.
Very precise about what he wants."
The word wants sat in the air between us.
Sera looked at Gideon.
"I'd like to speak with you privately," she said.
"When you have a moment."
"I have a moment now."
"I meant without—"
"Whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of Adeline."
Her jaw tightened.
"Fine." She folded her hands in front of her.
"Father has been talking to his solicitor again.
I think you should know that.
I think we should discuss it as a family before he does something impulsive that affects all of us."
"He's not impulsive," Gideon said.
"He's deliberate.
He always has been."
"He's eighty-one and he's on cardiac medication and he is being influenced by people whose interests are not aligned with this family's."
The word people.
Not nurse.
Not Adeline.
People.
"Which people?" Gideon asked.
Sera's eyes moved to me for one second.
Then back to her brother.
"I think you know," she said.
Gideon looked at her for a long moment.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet and absolutely even.
"I know a great many things, Sera.
More than I did yesterday." He moved toward the door.
"I'll be with Father if you need me."
He left.
Sera and I were alone.
She stood very still.
Then she turned to face me fully, and the performance dropped — not all of it, but enough.
Enough for me to see what was underneath.
"You should leave this house," she said quietly.
"While you still can."
I held her gaze.
"Is that concern," I said, "or a warning?"
May you like
She didn't answer.
She walked out and pulled the door shut behind her.
