The Nightingale Will Not Sing at Dawn

Louis called back almost immediately.

His voice was as calm and steady as ever. “Brooklyn? What’s going on?”

Muffling the phone, I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. My voice dropped to a whisper. “Louis, I can’t talk. Just tell me—if I wanted to file charges against someone powerful here in Ashford, what are our chances?”

Silence stretched over the line.

Louis had grown up with me, Kenneth, and Mila.

But he was never like the rest of us.

He came from old-money political stock. Could’ve walked the gilded path laid out for him. Instead, he walked away and became a detective—a choice that nearly got him disowned.

In our world, he was the outlier. Right now, he was my only lifeline.

“With solid evidence,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt, “it doesn’t matter who they are. No one’s above the law. Trust me on this, Brooklyn.”

“I do. I trust you.”

Before hanging up, I added quietly, “Meet me at the county clerk’s office tomorrow. Ten sharp.”

…

The next morning, Kenneth was up early, humming in the kitchen while he made breakfast. His mood was suspiciously bright.

He brought a sandwich and milk to the bedside, his unseeing eyes aimed gently in my direction. “Rise and shine, Brooklyn. Eat up, then we’ll go make it official at the clerk’s office.”

I stared at the ugly scar carved into his face—a special-effects wound turned permanent. To sell the blind act, he’d mutilated his own handsome features.

A born actor.

I sat up, face blank, took the plate, and ate mechanically.

When I didn’t speak, his voice softened. “What’s wrong? Still shaken from yesterday? Don’t be. It’s over. I’ll treat you twice as good now. No one will ever hurt you again.”

I nearly choked on my milk.

Lifting my head, I locked eyes with his, searching that manufactured darkness for any crack in the performance.

“Kenneth.” I let each word land. “Do you actually love me?”

He paused, then gave a light laugh, reaching to touch my hair. “Silly question. Why would I marry you if I didn’t?”

I pulled back from his hand. “Then promise me something. After we sign the papers today—after you get the jade box—I want you to say it in front of everyone. Say that you, Kenneth, will love only Brooklyn for the rest of your life. That you’ll never betray me.”

His hand froze.

The air went still.

Then the doting mask slid back into place. He smiled, indulgent. “Of course. Anything you want, you get.”

I looked down, hiding the inferno in my eyes.

Fine, Kenneth.

You said it.

Let’s see how you handle the show Mila and I have planned for you today.

Before we left, Kenneth made sure to call all his and Mila’s old friends—said he wanted them there to witness our happiness.

I knew better. They came to watch me crawl. To see the “soiled” woman beg to marry him, hand over her family heirloom, and fund Mila’s dream wedding.

I chose a white dress with the highest collar I owned and caked concealer over the brutal marks on my neck.

In the mirror, I forced a stiff smile.

*Don’t be afraid, Brooklyn.

The gates of hell are open. And everyone who belongs there is walking right in.*