Chapter 4 - The Ledger on the Hearth
Midnight arrived with a freezing mist that rattled the tall sash windows of the manor. Elena walked softly through the upper gallery, her canvas bag packed with her few clothes, her mother’s silver cross, and two notebooks filled with her own drawings of botanical gardens. Before she could descend the back stairs, a light flickered on in the small library.
Victoria sat behind a desk of burled walnut, an antique fountain pen in her right hand, her hair still meticulously coiled despite the late hour. On the blotter lay a single, heavy sheet of paper.
"Sit down, Elena," Victoria commanded without lifting her head.
May you like
Elena remained standing by the open doorway, fingers gripping the strap of her bag until the canvas dug into her skin. "I’m leaving, Mrs. Sterling."
Victoria finally looked up. Her face was a masterclass in composed cruelty—wrinkles ironed smooth by sheer force of will, her eyes cool and measuring. "Your mother was a woman of honor. When she lay dying, she took pride in knowing she would not leave a stain of unresolved obligation on her daughter. I paid her burial. I covered her prescriptions. You have four years remaining on your informal service." She tapped the paper. "Walk out that door with Julian, and I sell that ledger to an aggressive debt recovery firm in Portland by noon. They will take your mother’s trailer. They will take your vehicle. You will be penniless before the snow falls."
