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“Helen. Thank goodness,” he said. He followed my gaze to his weapon and gave an almost sheepish shrug. “I realized you were missing, and I was worried something had gotten you. You’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. I’d been lying all this time, and I hadn’t even realized it.

“Why are you out here?” he asked, brows drawing together.

I started to lie again—and then I stopped. Everything about me was a lie. Everything I’d done since getting to Harrow had been shrouded in lies and secrecy, and I couldn’t bear it anymore.Caleb had lost his daughter to this place, this family. He deserved to know the truth.

“There’s a hidden door here,” I said, voice quavering. I steeled myself, straightening up. I could do this. “It’s where the Other is—or where it’s strongest, I guess. I went to talk to it.”

“What were you thinking? It could have hurt you,” Caleb chided me.

“But it didn’t. It wouldn’t. Caleb—Leopold killed Jessamine,” I said, and now my voice was stronger. All this horror had thrived under the cover of darkness. It was time to bring the truth to light. I couldn’t look him in the eye as I went on, pressing forward, trying to get it all out at once. “He killed her to try to control the Other. That’s what keeps it here. Sacrifices. She’s not the only one. Except it didn’t work with Jessamine. I thought it was because I was supposed to be the sacrifice, that I got away, but...” I babbled, then I faltered. I rocked back on my heels, raking my hands through my hair.

“I know that Leopold killed Jessamine,” Caleb said gravely.

I stared at him. “Youknow? Then—but—”

“He tried with Celia first,” Caleb said darkly. “But Eli intervened. Whisked her away and arranged that London job for Victoria. So I suppose, in a way, Eli killed Jessamine just as surely. If he hadn’t gotten Celia away from here, we would have known long ago that the ritual didn’t work. Jessamine wouldn’t have died. How horrible is that? Part of me wishes my niece had died so my daughter didn’t have to.”

He stood perfectly still, composed, but the rage and grief in his voice was palpable. So intense that I almost didn’t understand thewords he was saying. London—it hadn’t been me that Desmond saw that night. It had been Celia. The failed sacrifice. Her mother had taken her to London to protect her from her family—and Eli had helped?

I stepped back. “You knew.”

“It’s not what you think,” he said, shaking his head. “I knew, yes. But I thought it was obscene, what our family did. Evil. I refused from the beginning to be part of it. When my father told me it was mydutyto produce a bastard for the sacrifice, I told him to go to hell, and he disinherited me. Then two years ago he came to me. The Other was getting stronger. Celia was too old, and there wasn’t time to try to have another...” His voice choked off. “He told me it was the only choice. I thought that if I didn’t, the Other would kill us all. I thought it was the right thing, but I was wrong. She died fornothing,” he spat out. He hadn’t moved from where he stood, planted in the center of the corridor. The gun still hung at his side, but his grip on it tightened.

“You gave her to him,” I said in numb horror.

His voice was cold and unyielding as stone. “I loved her, Helen. With all my heart. It destroyed me to pick up that knife.”

The words penetrated slowly. He hadn’t just handed Jessamine over. He’dbeenthere. The ritual in Dr.Raymond’s notebook had required three witnesses. Iris and Eli and Leopold made three, so Caleb had to have been there.

He looked at me with unbridled disgust. “I would have done anything for that girl, and she died because of my father’s weakness and because ofyou.”

“No. I had nothing to do with—”

His eyes blazed. “You left. You stole my sister and my daughter from me, and the absurd thing is you had no idea, did you? Nonotionof what you were or what you’d done. But that only made it easier for us to keep you here. One year. Enough to anchor you to this place again so that when we scatter you, things will be put right again.”

I stared at him in horror. “You wanted to change things. You said that tradition—”

“Killing our daughters is obscene, and I will dedicate my life to finding a way to ensure that no other child dies for this place,” Caleb said. “No more little girls should die because of you. I’ll find another way to bind you—or destroy you if I have to. Jessamine will be the last.”

His conviction was pure and powerful. Something that bright hot could not be quenched. Not by reason. Not by mercy. I was evil in his eyes. Jessamine’s death wasn’t his fault—it was mine. And he would destroy me for it.

“Please,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure what I was asking for.

He raised the gun. “We’re going to go back to your room. There are only two months left. If you don’t resist, the rest of your life as Helen can be pleasant enough. The end won’t hurt. It never does.”

“If you kill me now, you can’t sacrifice me,” I said, backing up a step instinctively.

“I doubt it would kill you,” he replied. “Eli cut off your hand and you grew a new one. But I’m guessing it would put you out again, just like before, and it would hurt like hell.”

“You lied,” I said. “You did know what happened that night. You never forgot any of it.”

“The night you were foolish enough to blunder into one of your own creations? Yes. After the Folded bit you, you were unconscious for days. But it was easy enough to manufacture evidence that you’d been awake.”

The only people in the house during that gap of missing time were Eli, Iris, and Caleb. So they were all in on it. “Roman knew, too,” I said. “He knew about scattering the bones.” My eyes were fixed on the muzzle of the gun. If I ran, would he shoot me in the back? Not that there was anywhere to run. The only way out was past him. Past the gun.

“Roman knew what you were, but we didn’t tell him about the will. He was too unpredictable,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “I’d hoped he would play along once things were in motion, but I think he decided that if he broke you himself, the house would choose him as the new master. Now, I don’t want to cause you any pain, Helen. You don’t need to suffer—we just need to put things right. If you’ll just go upstairs, there doesn’t need to be any violence.”