Pain moved through her so violently she gripped the back of a seat.
“You were there?”
“My father had two men with you.”
“I never saw them.”
“You were not supposed to.”
“What would they have done?”
“If I approached you, they would have taken you.”
She stared at him.
“He threatened me?”
“He promised that if I left, you would spend the rest of your life paying for it.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?”
“Because he said warning you would count as approaching.”
“You could have called later.”
“He monitored every telephone. Every account. Every person I knew.”
“For twelve years?”
“No.”
Silas looked down at his hands.
“For the first two years, I had no choice. After that, I had excuses.”
Evelyn climbed the steps to the stage.
“What excuses?”
“That you were safer without me. That you had built a new life. That Daniel was respectable.”
“You knew about Daniel?”
“I knew you married him.”
“Did you investigate him too?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you did.”
“He appeared clean.”
“He was not.”
“No.”
Evelyn stood beneath the ghost light.
“When did the excuses end?”
Silas rose.
“When I saw you at the jeweler’s.”
“That was three days ago.”
“No. The excuses ended years ago. Cowardice lasted longer.”
He was close enough that she could see exhaustion beneath his eyes.
“I never stopped loving you,” he said.
She looked away.
“You don’t get to use that as an explanation.”
“I am not.”
“You disappeared. I married another man. I built a life with him.”
“I know.”
“I loved him.”
Silas’s face tightened, but he nodded.
“At least at the beginning,” she continued. “Daniel made me laugh. He believed in the theater. He knew how to make ordinary days feel important.”
“You do not have to defend loving him.”
“I’m not defending it. I’m trying to understand how the same man could hold me when my mother died and later forge my signature.”
“People do not become one thing because they have done another.”
She looked at him.
“Is that what you tell yourself?”
“Every day.”
The ghost light cast long shadows around them.
Evelyn touched the wedding ring hanging from her neck.
“My husband was connected to stolen art. Your closest adviser was using my theater. You paid Daniel’s debt before you knew whether he was guilty.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Silas reached into his pocket.
He removed the receipt from Montrose & Vale.
The receipt for her sapphire.
“I bought it,” he said.
Her breath caught.
“You told the appraiser to complete the sale.”
“I did.”
“You bought my brooch?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“Safe.”
She stepped closer. “You paid for the sapphire and then paid my debt.”
“Yes.”
“That is nearly half a million pounds.”
“I have spent more on ships I disliked.”
“I am not a ship.”
“I am aware.”
“Then stop speaking as though money makes this simple.”
“It does not.”
“What do you want from me?”
His answer came quietly.
“Nothing you are not willing to give.”
She searched his face for arrogance, manipulation, or calculation.
She found fear.
Not fear of enemies.
Fear of her answer.
“You always wanted something,” she said. “Even when we were young.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“You.”
The word filled the empty theater.
Silas continued before she could respond.
“But wanting you does not make you mine. Paying your debt does not purchase your forgiveness. Protecting you does not give me the right to decide your life.”
“Yet you keep deciding it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I am very good at controlling danger and very bad at watching you walk toward it.”
“That sounds romantic until one remembers the armed men.”
“I know.”
Despite herself, a laugh escaped her.
Silas looked surprised.
Evelyn pressed a hand over her mouth.
“This is not funny.”
“No.”
“You are a criminal.”
“Yes.”
“My husband may have helped your lieutenant steal millions.”
“Yes.”
“There is a tunnel full of stolen saints beneath my stage.”
“Yes.”
“And you bought my grandmother’s sapphire.”
“Yes.”
“Stop agreeing with everything.”
“What would you prefer?”
“I would prefer one ordinary problem.”
Silas considered this.
“The chandelier wiring is dangerous.”
She laughed again.
This time, he smiled.
For a moment, he looked twenty years old.
Then footsteps sounded in the aisle.
Mara approached the stage holding a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a strip of black fabric covered in silver thread.
“We found this sewn beneath the lining of one of the tunnel maps,” she said.
Evelyn recognized the embroidery immediately.
She had designed the pattern herself.
It belonged to Daniel’s last anniversary coat.
Chapter Six
Messages in the Costumes
Daniel had never worn the anniversary coat.
Evelyn made it for the Lyric’s one-hundred-and-thirtieth celebration: midnight-blue wool, black silk lapels, and silver embroidery inside the collar. Two days before the event, Daniel claimed the sleeves were too tight.