CHAPTER 6: A Call Beneath the Roses

Adelaide laughed once when she saw the phone.
'Really, Maren? Calling someone to clean a dress?'
Maren ignored her. She stepped beside a column wrapped in white roses, keeping one arm around Clara while she dialed a number she had not used for emergencies in years.
Julian moved closer. His voice dropped to the private tone he used when he wanted obedience without witnesses.
'Put the phone down. We can handle this at home.'
Maren looked at him then, truly looked at him. The husband who bought Clara storybooks. The son who still became twelve years old whenever Adelaide entered a room. The man who had not protected the child until protection became inconvenient.
'Home is where she should have been safe first,' Maren said.
The call connected.
Her face changed when she heard her father's voice. Not because she weakened. Because someone on the other end believed her before she explained.
'Dad,' she said softly. 'Adelaide humiliated Clara in the Ashford Ballroom. Julian is asking me to be quiet.'
The room heard enough to understand that the night had changed owners.