Victoria POV

When I got home that night, sleep was impossible. I wandered from room to room like a ghost, heels discarded by the door, gown still clinging to my body as if the night refused to let me go. Amelia’s face haunted me. Alive. Breathing. Smiling. And Maxwell—Maxwell hadn’t looked surprised at all. Not even for a second.

That was what broke me the most.

If Amelia had truly been dead, shock would have crossed his face. Anger. Pain. Something. But there had been nothing. ...