Chapter 11
Bianca finally told me her real motive.
Not Matteo’s.
Hers.
“You stopped listening to me when Evelyn came.”
I stared.
“That’s your reason?”
“No.”
Her eyes filled.
“You stopped needing me.”
There.
Sibling wound.
Older sister.
She raised me after our mother died.
Not entirely.
But enough that she believed part of me belonged to her.
Then Evelyn arrived.
I told Evelyn things first.
Asked her opinions.
Changed household traditions Bianca controlled.
Small shifts.
Normal.
To Bianca, displacement.
“Did you hate her?”
“No.”
Too quick.
Then:
“Not at first.”
Better.
“She made you question Matteo.”
“He needed questioning.”
“She made you question me.”
“You needed questioning.”
That hurt her.
Good.
Not cruelty.
Truth.
Bianca looked away.
“Matteo said the marriage would make you impossible to guide.”
“Guide.”
I almost smiled.
“You mean control.”
She looked back.
“I protected you your whole life.”
“Yes.”
“And she arrived and decided everyone was dangerous.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“She arrived and asked why you all had keys to rooms I didn’t.”
Silence.
That was the simplest version.
Evelyn did not create paranoia.
She exposed entitlement.
Bianca started by agreeing to scare her away.
One night.
One forged note.
A temporary disappearance.
Then Evelyn discovered the recorder.
Everything escalated.
“How did temporary become three years?”
Bianca cried then.
Really cried.
“I kept thinking I would fix it.”
Classic.
Tomorrow.
Next week.
After Matteo calms down.
After Damian figures it out.
After Thomas finds the recorder.
Cowardice extended one day at a time until years formed.
“I loved you.”
“I know.”
She looked surprised.
That was the tragedy.
Love existed.
May you like
It simply did not stop her from doing something monstrous.
Love is not proof of innocence.
