## Chapter 5
Three days after Willa left, Rosie changed completely. The little girl who once ran through the mansion with ringing laughter now kept herself shut away in her bedroom, and didn’t step outside unless she was forced to. The child who had once finished every bit of the vegetables Willa prepared for her now pushed her food aside and didn’t even bother to lift her fork.
Griffin didn’t notice, or didn’t care. “Kids get used to things,” he said when told she wouldn’t eat. “Don’t spoil her. If she’s hungry enough, she’ll eat.” Paige was colder still. She passed Rosie’s room, saw the little girl sitting alone in the dark, and didn’t stop at all. “She needs discipline. Her mother spoiled her too much. That nanny spoiled her too much, too. Let her fend for herself for a while, and she’ll get better.”
No one asked Rosie whether she was all right. No one read her a story before bed. No one sat beside her bed and held her when she woke frightened in the night. No one wiped away her tears when she cried in silence. Rosie was completely alone.
Late at night, Ezra sat before the screen showing Rosie’s bedroom in ghostly infrared blue. She sat curled around her teddy bear, believing herself utterly alone, and began speaking to the only thing she had left.
“Bear. Willa’s gone. Daddy’s gone, too. Mommy’s gone, too.” She held the bear tighter. “Why does everybody leave Rosie? Is Rosie bad? Did Rosie do something wrong?”
Then she began to cry — not loudly, only silent tears, her shoulders shaking in the dark. “Daddy. Rosie misses you.”
Ezra heard every word, saw every tear, felt every choked sob like blades through his chest. Slowly, he lowered his head into his hands, and his shoulders began to shake. For the first time since Nadia died, for the first time since he’d told himself he had to be a wall of steel no one could break through, Ezra Cross cried — in silence, in darkness, alone.
Miles stood behind him and said nothing. He knew there were no words large enough for a moment like this.
At last Ezra lifted his head. His eyes were red, but something in that gaze had changed. The desperate pain was gone. What remained was a terrifying coldness, like the sky before a great storm.
“I’m going to end this soon.”
“We still need to know who’s behind the assassination attempt,” Miles said.
“I know. But I also need someone inside to protect Rosie until I can return. Willa. She didn’t leave Boston. She rented a small apartment twenty minutes from the estate. She’s still trying to find a way back.”
He walked closer to the screen and placed his hand against the cold glass, right over Rosie’s sleeping face. “Wait just a little longer for Daddy, sweetheart. Daddy’s coming home, I promise. And the people who made you cry will pay for it. Down to every single tear.”
