Camille arrived before the envelope did.
She did not call first.
She never did.
At eleven fifteen, the front door opened and Camille stepped inside carrying a white bakery box.
“I brought almond cake.”
Maren stood in the hallway.
“Why?”
Camille smiled.
“Do I need a reason?”
Usually, yes.
Peter came down the stairs.
“Mom.”
His voice held a warning.
Camille ignored it.
She kissed his cheek.
Then she turned to Maren.
“You look tired.”
Maren took the cake box.
“I got an interesting phone call this morning.”
For the first time, Camille’s eyes moved too quickly.
Then the expression vanished.
“From whom?”
“A lab.”
Peter closed his eyes.
Camille sighed.
“Oh, Peter.”
That was all.
Not shock.
Not confusion.
Disappointment that he had been caught.
Maren placed the cake on the console table.
“You knew.”
Camille took off her gloves.
“Of course I knew.”
“You suggested it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Camille looked at Peter.
“Because this family has spent too many years allowing uncertainty to become leverage.”
Maren almost admired the sentence.
It sounded important while meaning nothing.
“What uncertainty?”
“The trust is approaching a distribution point.”
“What does that have to do with our daughter?”
“Bloodline provisions.”
Maren stared.
Camille’s face softened.
Almost kindly.
“Maren, I have never believed you were unfaithful.”
Peter looked at his mother.
“Mom.”
“No. She deserves to hear that.”
Camille stepped closer.
“I told Peter the test would clear this up permanently.”
“Clear what up if you never believed it?”
Camille blinked.
There.
A tiny mistake.
Maren saw it.
Camille recovered.
“Other people can raise questions even when I don’t share them.”
“Which other people?”
“The trustees.”
“Name one.”
Camille’s mouth tightened.
Peter stepped in.
“Can we stop?”
“No,” Maren said.
He flinched.
Camille folded her gloves together.
“You are angry, and you have every right to be. But the result will prove exactly what you already know.”
Her confidence was too clean.
Too complete.
Maren felt it before she understood it.
Camille was not afraid the test would prove Maren had cheated.
She was afraid of something else.
“What exactly did you ask the lab to run?”
Camille’s fingers stopped moving.
Peter frowned.
“A family panel.”
“I know what Peter thinks he ordered.”
Maren kept her eyes on Camille.
“What did you ask for?”
Camille smiled.
“You’re making this complicated.”
“No. Somebody already did.”
The doorbell rang.
All three of them turned.
A courier stood outside holding a rigid white mailer.
Signature required.
Maren opened the door.
The label carried the lab’s name.
Her own name beneath it.
She signed.
When she turned back, Camille was staring at the envelope.
Not at Maren.
At the seal.
Peter said, “Let’s wait until the doctor calls.”
Maren walked to the dining table.
She placed the envelope in the center.
Camille’s eyes followed it.
“You should open it,” she said.
Peter stared at her.
“You just said—”
“I said nothing.”
Camille stepped closer.
“The test will settle this.”
Maren touched the sealed edge.
“No.”
Camille looked at her.
“I thought you wanted the truth.”
“I do.”
“Then open it.”
Maren pushed the envelope away.
“The lab director told me not to.”
Camille’s expression changed again.
This time, fear stayed longer.
“Why would the lab director call you?”
“Chain-of-custody issue.”
Camille went perfectly still.
Peter noticed.
So did Maren.
“What issue?” Camille asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
Maren picked up the envelope.
She carried it to the kitchen cabinet and locked it inside.
When she turned around, Camille was no longer smiling.
“Give me the key,” Camille said.
