Page 48 of The Devil's Canvas

Selene tilts her head, studying me like she already sees through my defenses. "No, I suppose you don’t. You already know the important parts, don’t you? You just don’t like to talk about them."

I press my lips together, refusing to let them see how much this conversation is digging into something raw.

Theron leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, his smirk softening just slightly. "You miss her."

It’s not a question.

The air feels too heavy, my throat too tight. I exhale sharply, shaking my head. "What does it matter?"

Selene’s voice gentles, but it doesn’t waver. "Because your mother was important, Ophelia. And not just to you."

I swallow, looking down at my hands, fingers twisting together. "She wasn’t even married to my father that long. He had an affair. Rosalind was already pregnant with Melanie before my mother even died."

Theron exhales through his nose. "Cassius never wastes time, does he?"

I shake my head, jaw tightening. "No. He doesn’t."

Selene leans back, watching me carefully. "And yet, despite all of that, Rosalind still raised you like her own."

My stomach twists, and suddenly, this conversation feels even more exhausting than before.

"She did," I say, quieter now. "She made sure I remembered my mother. She talked about her like she was still here, like she wasn’t just a name in a family history book." I pause, pressing my nails into my palm, focusing on the sting. "But she was still my mother, too. Rosalind. She never made me feel like I didn’t belong."

Theron whistles, shaking his head. "So let me get this straight. You’ve got an angel for a stepmother, a power-hungry father, and a dead mother whose name still carries weight. Yeah, you’re definitely in the clear."

Selene ignores him. "And yet, Rosalind wasn’t at Melanie’s wedding."

I go still.

Selene raises a brow. "Why is that?"

I exhale sharply, crossing my arms tighter. "She wasn’t invited."

Theron lets out a low whistle. "Oof. Cold."

"Melanie made sure of it," I continue, jaw tightening. "She never wanted Rosalind to be part of our lives after she left our father. She spent years making sure we knew she wasn’t an Arden anymore. That she wasn’t family. When she married Dominic, it was her chance to erase the last thing tying her to Rosalind."

Selene hums in thought. "And how did Rosalind feel about that?"

I hesitate, the memory hitting me all at once. The way Rosalind smiled, soft and warm, like it didn’t hurt at all. Like she understood. Like she always understood.

"She didn’t fight it," I say after a long moment. "She never fought Melanie on anything."

Theron raises a brow. "And you don’t think that’s strange?"

I shake my head. "She’s not like you. She’s not like any of you. She doesn’t want power, she doesn’t play games, she—"

"Kept you hidden," Selene finishes. "Kept you safe. Which is exactly why this might be a problem now."

A lump lodges itself in my throat, cold and solid.

"What are you saying?"

Selene leans forward, eyes sharp, voice softer now. "I’m saying that whatever happens next, you need to be prepared. Because if you don’t act first, someone else will. And Julian?" Her lips curve, not quite a smile. "He’s not the waiting type."

Theron stretches his arms behind his head, still smirking. "And considering he’s already barely holding it together, I don’t think you want to see what that looks like."

They leave, and I open my laptop, pulling up the interview.

---