I hated keeping this from her, and every day that passed made revealing it more difficult, yet more necessary. Our baby’s arrival and the life I wanted with her made everything more imminent.
“I’m not bothered by her behavior anymore. I understand her pain,” Michaila said, placing her hand over our growing child. “When she looks at me, she sees memories of my father and what might have been. That can’t be easy.”
I nearly confessed everything before deciding against it. She deserved the truth about her connection to this family.
But what would that revelation cost her? Cost me? I feared how it might change things between us.
The happiness we’d built still felt new, vulnerable. Would learning that we’d kept this from her shatter her trust in me? In all of us?
“Your aunt is a proud woman who’s been hurt deeply,” she continued. “But she’s also family. And being family means making room for all kinds of complicated feelings, even the difficult ones.”
Her understanding of a situation she didn’t fully comprehend only intensified my admiration for her. The truth would come out—it had to—but I needed to ensure the revelation wouldn’t destroy what we’d built. I needed to speak with my family first, to prepare them, before I told her.
“You continue to surprise me,” I said, tucking a braid behind her ear. “Your compassion, your strength. You’re remarkable, Michaila.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning into my touch.
I would tell her everything soon. She deserved the complete truth, however complicated. But for now, I would allow us both this happiness.
23
The sitting room was in disarray. Irida sat crumpled in an armchair, her face buried in her hands as violent sobs shook her slender frame. My mother-in-law paced nearby, tears streaming down her face as she shouted in rapid Greek about justice and betrayal.
I kneeled beside Irida with Deanna, offering what comfort we could, though our words seemed to have no effect. In the corner, Aristides, Konstantin, and Dimitrios huddled in intense conversation.
Santo and Tia entered the room, confusion evident on their faces.
“Father?” Santo called out, drawing everyone’s attention. “What’s happened?”
Aristides crossed the room toward them, holding out a tablet with a grim expression. “Read this.”
I watched Santo’s face pale as he scanned the screen.
“What is it?” Tia asked, leaning closer to see.
Santo tilted the tablet so she could read the article. “Stavros was my father’s uncle,” he told Tia. “He died before I was born.”
News of Irida’s brother’s death being reclassified as homicide thirty years after the fact had thrown the family into upheaval. Andreas had discovered the article first, immediately forwarding it to Konstantin, who then shared the devastating revelation with everyone.
“It was that witch!” Irida cried out beside me, her face contorted in anguish. “Angela killed my brother!”
My mother-in-law nodded vigorously. “We always knew it. The American police wouldn’t listen.”
“Mother, please,” Konstantin interjected. “These are serious accusations with no evidence.”
“We lived the evidence!” My mother-in-law shouted, her small frame vibrating with rage. “Stavros was healthy as a bull, then he got the flu and died less than three months later!”
Irida collapsed into fresh sobs beside me, her hands trembling against mine as I tried to steady her. “She took him from us, then, to punish us further, sold Thalassía to Michail.”
Deanna rose from Irida’s side. “Irida, you should lie down.” She helped the distraught woman to her feet. “This can’t be good for your heart.”
Since showing up at the estate last week like some avenging mama bear ready to burn the place down—only to discover her daughter was actually safe and sound—Deanna’s been visiting Domna and Irida almost daily. What’s even weirder was this elaborate pretend game she and Aristides kept playing, acting like complete strangers who met a week ago.
Neither Tia nor Santo had any clue about their parent’s prior relationship, and I’m certainly not dropping that bombshell. Tia would find out when her mother decided. And judging by the loaded glances Deanna and Aristides exchanged when theythought no one was watching, that time wasn’t coming anytime soon.
“Deanna’s right,” my mother-in-law agreed. “Come, Irida. We need to rest.”
“I’ll help,” I offered, supporting Irida’s other side. Her weight leaned heavily against me as her body continued to tremble with emotion.
