Old Money
The Second Son

The Study, Again

Odalys Marchetti had cooked in that kitchen for twenty-six years, long enough to know the sound of trouble before it had words.

She found Emeric sitting at the small table off the pantry, the one they used to share breakfast at before he had an office two floors up with his name on nothing.

"You look like your father did," she said, "the week before he left."

"I don't remember him."

"I do." She set tea in front of him, the way she always had. "He also thought loyalty was a debt he could pay off by disappearing into someone else's life."

"Mama."

"A reporter is going to print something tomorrow." It wasn't a question.

Emeric didn't ask how she knew. His mother always knew.

"I need you to understand," he started.

"I understand perfectly." Her voice sharpened, the way it hadn't in years. "I understand that I raised you in this house to survive it, not to burn for it. You think Percival will stand next to you tomorrow?"

"I don't know what he'll do."

"I do." Odalys had spent decades watching Ravenscrofts up close, closer than any of them realized. "He will do what he has always done. He will watch you take the stairs."

Emeric's phone buzzed before he could answer her. Percy.

*We need to talk. Now. My study.*

He found Percy pacing, tie gone, hair wrecked, a half-empty glass on the desk that hadn't been half-empty an hour ago.

"Voss has everything," Percy said. "The signatures, the logins, all of it."

"I know."

"You have to say you did it alone."

Emeric went still. "What?"

"You have to say you did it alone. Without me knowing. That you forged my signature, that I never asked you to, that I— Emeric, if this comes back on me, my father—" Percy's voice cracked. "You've covered for me my whole life. Cover for me one more time."

"That's not covering for you. That's confessing to a crime I didn't commit alone."

Percy looked at him, and for the first time in twenty years, Emeric didn't recognize his face at all.

"Then I'll say it for you," Percy said quietly. "I'll say you acted alone. Tomorrow. In front of everyone."

Continue the story Part 6: That's Enough, Percival →

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