Page 109 of Tears Like Acid

“I just did.” I add before walking from the room, “When I return, this kitchen better be spotless.”

A great deal of grumbling follows, but they don’t protest further.

On my way to the study, I call the guardhouse and summon a man to watch the boys in case they get it into their heads to run away.

Heidi and Sophie wait in the hallway.

“Didn’t you take her to her new bedroom?” I ask my housekeeper.

Heidi’s smile is apologetic. “I did, but she insists on having a word with you.”

My niece regards me with a serious expression, the doll pressed against her stomach.

I raise a brow. I’m curious about what she wants to talk to me about that’s put that look on her face.

“You better come in then,” I say, smiling to put her at ease.

“By the way, the doctor came,” Heidi says. “He examined the children. Except for malnutrition, they’re healthy. Johan and Étienne have cavities in their teeth. You’ll have to make an appointment at the dentist.”

“How tall are you going to grow?” I ask Sophie.

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth.

I frown. Not so long ago, she was excited about learning that fact.

“I’ll be in the laundry room if you need me,” Heidi says with a sigh.

Sophie enters my study ahead of me, looking around the space. I can’t help but notice how lost she looks in the big room.

“What is it, Sophie?”

She turns to me. “I want to go home.”

Something inside me tightens in protest. “You are home, darling. Don’t you like your new room?”

Fabien went to a great deal of trouble to make it even prettier than the temporary one in the new house. I thought she’d like the doll’s house that’s structured like an artificial cave and the fairy garden in the bay window, but what do I know about what little girls want?

She averts her gaze and drills the toe of her sneaker into the rug. “It’s nice, but I want to go home to Sabella.” A note of uncertainty slips into her slight voice. “You promised.”

Yes, I did, and I also made myself a promise earlier in the kitchen not to break her trust.

Going to my desk, I take the parcel that I got from Bastia and carry it back to her. “I have something for you.”

She stares at the gift wrapped in pink paper and tied with a big white bow. Isn’t she excited or curious? I thought she’d jump on it. It just goes to show how little I understand her and how much I still have to learn.

“Take it,” I say with another encouraging smile.

She slowly untangles her grip on Beatrice and puts the stick doll on the sofa before taking the parcel. She glances at me as if she expects a vile surprise. Her actions are unenthusiastic when she peels off the paper to reveal a white box with pink hearts. The white and pink remind me of Sabella’s sixteenth birthday party. The colors transport me back to the time when I first saw her. I remember with startling clarity how I felt—the pleasant discovery of her beauty, the instant possessiveness, the overwhelming jealousy, and most of all, the inappropriate desire. I shake off the memory and force myself back to the present moment, to the little girl who stares at the closed lid of the box.

“Open it,” I urge gently.

She wiggles the lid and pulls it free. A porcelain doll with blond curls and an exquisite dress of anglaise embroidery rests on a cushion of velvet. The blue eyes are made of glass. Her face is delicately painted. The toy is a work of art. I watch Sophie intently, waiting for her reaction.

“It’s very pretty,” she says, handing me the box.

I frown internally but manage another smile. “She’s yours. It’s a gift. You can keep her.”

She lowers her arm reluctantly.

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