The nanny's hand paused on the gate latch. "I'm sorry, Miss Elara. Mr. Dubois has instructed that Mrs. Dubois is resting and cannot receive visitors today."
My heart sank. I knew it was a lie. Mrs. Dubois never napped at this hour—she'd always taken her tea in the garden at this time of day.
Fiona's triumphant smirk made my blood boil. "You heard her. Mother needs her rest. Now leave."
"I don't believe you," I said directly to the nanny, whose eyes immediately dropped to the ground. "Mrs. Dubois always takes tea at four. She never rests at this hour."
The nanny's shoulders stiffened. "I'm just following orders, miss."
"Whose orders?" I pressed. "Mrs. Dubois's? Or someone else's?"
Felix stepped forward. "That's enough, Elara. You're making the poor girl uncomfortable."
"Because she knows she's lying," I insisted, clutching the photograph tighter. I couldn't leave—not when I was this close.
