Her voice came down the marble like broken glass. *Get out of my house.

Silas reached out with a thick, calloused finger and gently lifted the button from Lily's palm.

"Where did you find this?" he asked softly, his tone completely stripped of its usual hardness.

Lily pointed a small finger toward the dark oak wainscoting near the base of the grand staircase. "Under the wood," she whispered. "It was hiding."

Isabella took a nervous step backward, her silk robe rustling against the steps. "Silas, it’s just trash the child picked up. Throw it away and fire the maid already. She broke the estate rules!"

Silas slowly stood up. He turned his head, staring at Isabella with an icy gray glare that made her step back another inch.

"This is my son Julian’s button," Silas said, his voice dropping an octave. "The one he wore on the night he was ambushed."

The foyer went completely still.

Rosa looked up, her face draining of what little color remained. She clutched Lily closer to her chest.

Silas turned his full attention back to Rosa. "How long have you worked in this house, Rosa?"

"Four... four years, Don Moretti," she stammered.

"And where did you live before you came to the Hudson estate?"

Rosa hesitated, her jaw tightening as if she were stepping onto thin ice. "A small apartment near the docks in Brooklyn, sir."

Silas took a step closer, his sharp eyes scanning Rosa's face, then moving down to Lily’s features—the high cheekbones, the deep-set brown eyes, the faint dimple on her left cheek when she looked down.