Elana sucked in a harsh breath. The words swirled around them like little pinpoints of reality. Her face fell, and she nodded slowly, her dark hair curtaining her face as she looked down.
“You love Thom, don’t you?” Mariella asked, pressing a finger beneath her daughter’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet.
“Yes, of course I do.” Elana bit down on her full lower lip. “I was only thinking about Daddy.”
Mariella’s smile was overbright. “Then you do what he would want, hmm? The wedding will go ahead. It must. For your father.”
Elana nodded again, the fight evaporating from her. “Okay, yeah. You’re right.” Elana looked as though she was on the verge of saying something else, but the sound of footsteps forestalled her. They spun as one to see Luc striding down the corridor, his expression intent.
“How’s Dad?”
Mariella frowned. “The same.” She looked over her shoulder at the hospital room. “Listen, Luc?”
Elana listened, too—any chance to hear her perfect older brother get his share of a Mariella lecture.
“I know I said this yesterday, but this is a time for us to stick together. We are family, yes? Family. All of us. What happened to your father is awful. But what would he say if he were standing here? What would he tell you?” She looked from one to the other, her eyes enormous, and then she made a clicking sound and moved to the door. “Rafe? Gabe? Come here.”
Her middle child, so elegant despite the worry he wore about his shoulders, sauntered out of the room, followed closely by Gabe. At the sight of Luc, Rafe stiffened visibly, and Mariella almost wish she could box them about the ears. “Stop that,” she snapped. “Here, now.” She pointed to the spot beside Elana, and Rafe knew enough of his mother’s demands to comply. He took the position and Gabe stood beside him, though a little apart, too. As though he didn’t really belong to the triptych.
Mariella moved to the wall opposite and paced several feet in one direction and then spun, retracing her steps. After a few moments, she stopped walking abruptly and looked at the four of them.
“I don’t care what you feel.” She straightened her shoulders, and her eyes took an intense glare. “I don’t care if you’re annoyed with one another. If you need to settle a dispute, you do it behind closed doors in a private room. Away from servants, staff, guests, anyone. And, obviously, away from nosy nobodies with cell phones set to record. We are a family, and now we are a family that needs to watch ourselves very carefully. We do not need to invite the kind of speculation you are flirting with. Elana is to marry Thom, and you boys are to carry on as always.”
“But it’s not business as usual,” Rafe pointed out. “How can it be?”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Mariella demanded fiercely. She lifted a finger and rubbed her temple, her mind swimming. “So far as everyone is aware, though, we are the Marshalls, and we are fine.”
Rafe shook his head, his disapproval obvious. But Luc was nodding. “You’re right. We shouldn’t have fought like that. It won’t happen again.”
Rafe rolled his eyes, and Mariella caught Elana reaching down and grabbing his hand. She understood their alliance and she’d always tolerated it, but she couldn’t be bothered with it in that moment. Her eyes met Gabe’s, and she saw resounding support staring back at her. It strengthened her, and she thanked the Lord for the nephew she’d been given to raise. What a blessing he’d been. “Have I made myself clear?” she asked, hands on hips.
“Yes, Mom,” Luc said with a nod.
“Yes, Mom,” Elana mimicked, but at Mariella’s furious stare, she bit down on her lip and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. We’ll behave.”
“Good. Now.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you know about this interview your father is supposed to have conducted?”
Luc lifted his brows. “I hadn’t heard anything about it,” he said.
Gabe shook his head. “Nothing more than I told you on the phone. Just that one is alleged to have taken place.”
“Apparently Dad gave an in-depth interview earlier today,” Elana said, shrugging. “It was on the radio in the car.”
“What was?” Gabe asked insistently.
“Not the interview, obviously,” she said with a flick of her hair. “But the anchorman who spoke to Dad...”
“No one spoke to him,” Mariella interrupted.
“Right.” Elana nodded. “You know what I mean.”
“The guy who’s claiming to have seen Harrison. What did he say?” Gabe asked.
“It was just a teaser,” Rafe cut in. “A few seconds to get you to watch. ‘Yes, I’ve seen him. He’s alive.’”
Mariella squeezed her eyes shut on a slow exhalation of breath. “Fuck.”
Elana’s mouth opened on an oh of surprise at the unexpected curse coming from her mother.
“The media has no conscience,” Luc muttered. “Don’t worry about it.”
“How can I not worry? Has this man been to Whispering Oaks? Does that mean staff here have sold your father’s location?”
“It’s a bullshit story made up to satisfy the public’s macabre interest in this. That’s all,” Rafe interjected logically. “You know what happens in cases like this. Someone who worked for you guys seventeen years ago is going to see gold pots at the end of the rainbow and sell their story to whatever rag will buy it. There’s going to be a lot of crap printed about us in the coming days.”
“All the more reason not to fuel the fire,” Mariella responded coolly.
“Yes, Mom,” Rafe said, barely suppressing his frustration. “Message heard, loud and clear.”
Mariella nodded, but the mystery of this interview continued to plague her. “I mean, how can a station promote an exclusive interview with a man who’s not capable of speech?”
“CGI?” Elana made the joke in poor taste, then shook her head, lifting her hands in apology. The situation had riled her, and she wasn’t thinking straight.
“It’s just a ratings bid,” Luc said. “Nothing more.”
“But what if it’s not? What if someone’s been here? Touched him? Taken photographs of him?” A shudder of revulsion traveled the length of her spine.
“It’s not possible,” Luc rushed to reassure Mariella. “This place has great security, and no one knows where he is.”
She snorted. “Except this television reporter.”
Luc frowned. “I don’t know what the story is there. I can tell you one thing, though. I’m not going to let anything happen to Dad. Got it?” He moved closer, and there was such a look of Harrison in his determined face that her heart squeezed.
A dawning of something like realization ignited inside her. Faced with the four of them, only one seemed to be calm under pressure.
Only one seemed to be facing these events as they unfolded with an air of preparedness that wasn’t possible. Not given the magnitude of what they’d been forced to confront.
Luc was too calm. Too mature. Where was his worry? Where was his nerve?
But he was a surgeon. He lived and died by his ability to cope with stress. Was she jumping to conclusions again? Had her worry over Harrison given birth to a fully fledged paranoia?
“You’d better get in here,” Joe stood at the door, his face grim. He stepped back