Chapter Forty - Tears Left To Cry

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Unknown P.O.V.

"It's time..."

- - -

Adam's P.O.V.

My attempts to placate Evelyn were futile.

After I told her that her mother had died, she went weak in the knees and I carried her from the kitchen up to our bedroom.

She laid on our bed, holding a tear-stained pillow tightly to her chest.

No matter how hard I tried to soothe her, Evelyn couldn't stop crying long enough to take deep breaths and calm herself.

To say I was confused by this is an accurate depiction of how I felt.

As far as I knew, her mother was absent from her life. She was a substance abuser and completely and utterly helpless at the hands of Evelyn's father.

She didn't take care for Evelyn and never told her goodbye when I brought her to the castle just three months earlier.

I couldn't understand why Evelyn cried for the woman who didn't love her, for the woman that was never there.

My confusion, however, did not negate the fact that Evelyn did feel the pain of her death. This was the reason I tried to calm her, to tell her it would all be alright.

After an hour or so of my failed attempts to do so, I left her alone to mourn and cry as much as she needed to.

I couldn't help but be angry as I made the trip back down to my office.

It had been such a good week. We'd only been married a short time and she was happy.

Why now did her father have to make a reappearance? Why did her mother have to die?

I knew this meant that there would be a period of time, at least for a short while, that our lives wouldn't be as happy. It was because of this that I hesitated in even telling her when I received the news.

Jace was waiting for me in my office when I got there.

"How is she?"

I took a deep breath.

"As well as can be expected."

Jace nodded understandingly.

"He'll be here in a few minutes."

This statement stopped me from sitting down and I glanced at my watch.

"Let's go then."

I grabbed the dress coat from behind my chair and put it on over my button-up as Jace stood up.

I walked around him, leading him out of my office.

"Tell them I want him brought to the lower level of the garage," I commanded.

Jace said nothing as I heard him pull his phone from his slacks and make the call.

I went into the sitting room adjacent from the office wing and walked over to the bookshelf.

The latch was hidden behind my copy of The Art of War and I pulled it with so much force it almost came out of the wall.

I heard the gears clicking into place behind the shelf and soon the hidden door opened.

I grabbed it, swinging it open so Jace and I could walk through it.

The passage was narrow and dark except for what was illuminated by the dying fluorescent bulbs hanging from the ceiling every twenty feet.

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