Aurora’s POV
“Nobody moves.” My voice comes out low and sharp, and for one strange second, they listen. Vincent stays where he is. Damien freezes beside the table. Sebastian does not speak.
Good.
I fold the letter once and hold it in one hand. The hospital tag stays in the other. My pulse is too loud, but my hands are steady enough to matter.
“If the wrong child opened this box first,” I say, looking at all three of them now, “then maybe the first smart thing I do tonight is stop all of you from touching anything else.”
Damien lets out a breath through his nose. “Aurora, this is getting ridiculous.”
“No,” I say. “What’s ridiculous is that every man in this room thinks he deserves answers from my mother’s box.”
His face hardens.
Vincent’s does not.
That is worse.
Sebastian is the
