I stared at him.
His mother stood at the top of the staircase holding my grandfather’s pendant in one manicured hand.
Cordelia’s breathing was heavy, but her eyes were cold.
Triumphant.
“You should’ve given it to her,” Flynn said.
I couldn’t speak.
He crouched beside me.
Not to check my pulse.
Not to see whether my leg was broken.
He reached into the pocket of my robe and removed the brass key I had refused to surrender twenty minutes earlier.
The key to my grandfather’s study.
Then Flynn looked at his mother.
“She kept the documents there?”
Cordelia smiled.
“She thinks she’s smarter than everyone.”
Something warm ran along my temple.
Blood.
I tried to move.
Pain tore through me so violently that I nearly blacked out.
“Flynn…”
He glanced down.
The man I had married seven years earlier looked almost annoyed by my suffering.
