Collins Walter paced the length of Mrs. Ryan's living room, his expensive leather shoes silent against the plush Persian rug. The afternoon sun had shifted position, casting long shadows across the floor that seemed to mirror the darkness growing in his heart. He had been quiet for nearly ten minutes since Grace had suggested they tell Nora everything, his mind racing through all the possible consequences of such a revelation.
"No," he said finally, his voice firm and decisive. He stopped pacing and turned to face Grace, who was still seated in her chair, watching him with a mixture of concern and determination. "Absolutely not. We cannot tell her."
Grace's eyebrows rose slightly. "Collins, we just agreed that-"
"You agreed," he interrupted, his voice rising with panic. "I never agreed
