Catherine slipped into her nightgown, the soft fabric settling against her skin as the night finally began to quiet around her.

But her mind didn’t.

Even as she stood before the mirror, carefully working through her skincare routine, her thoughts kept circling back, sharp, alert, and unwilling to rest.

Jonathan wouldn’t stop here. And if he traced things back far enough... Her fingers paused for just a second against her cheek.

Bernice.

If he realized Bernice had given her access, if he even suspected it, he wouldn’t hesitate. Not with the way he had sounded on the call. Not with what was at stake now.

And Dorian...

Catherine exhaled slowly, her gaze lowering.

Dorian wouldn’t attack directly.

He would use people.

And Bernice, who was soft-hearted, loyal to a fault, would walk straight into danger if it meant helping her.

"No..." Catherine murmured under her breath.

Calling Bernice would only make it worse. She would panic, or worse... act.

So Catherine chose the next safest option. To call Sebastian.

The call connected after a few rings.

"Hello—"

His voice was off... a little slurred.

Catherine’s brows knit together immediately. "Sebastian, it’s me. Catherine Preston," she said, her tone steady, though uncertainty crept in. "Are you—"

Silence.

Then the dull, unmistakable sound of glass hitting wood came through the phone. Her expression hardened slightly. "Are you drinking?"

There was silence for a beat.

Then, his voice came. "Ah... Whitmore’s lady love..." he drawled, his words uneven, stretched. "What’s up?"

He was trying. Trying hard to sound normal. Light. But it didn’t land. Something was wrong.

Catherine hesitated, her grip on the phone tightening just slightly as she debated whether to continue or hang up and call Bernice directly despite her better judgment.

Before she could decide, the bathroom door opened.

Maximilian stepped in.

"It’s Sebastian," she said, holding the phone out to him without preamble. "Ask him about Bernice. He’s drunk."

"Drunk?" The word came out sharper than expected, concern settling quickly across his features.

Sebastian didn’t drink like this. Not without reason.

Maximilian took the phone, his expression already shifting. "Sebastian?" he said, his voice steady but firmer now. "Are you alright?"

Silence answered him. Not empty silence.The kind that carried something behind it.

Then came a quiet, broken sound.

Sniffling.

"My dearest Maximilian..." Sebastian’s voice returned, but whatever careless charm he usually wore was gone, replaced by something raw, unguarded. "How have you been? I missed you so, so much..." A soft, uneven laugh followed. "You didn’t even call me once. Have you forgotten me?"

Maximilian’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. This wasn’t drunken nonsense. This was... something else. Something heavier.

Catherine watched him for a moment, reading the shift in his expression, the way concern deepened into something more serious.

Whatever this was... it wasn’t small. And it wasn’t something she needed to stand in the middle of.

Quietly, she stepped away.

The soft light of the bedroom welcomed her back as she slipped beneath the covers, the cool sheets grounding against her skin. She turned onto her side, pulling the blanket closer, her mind still moving, but slower now, dulled at the edges by the weight of the day.

Behind her, faint through the walls, Maximilian’s voice continued—lower now, more intent.

Catherine closed her eyes. Whatever storm Sebastian was caught in... Maximilian would handle it.

And for once... she allowed herself not to worry.

But sleep did not come.

Her body lay still beneath the sheets, yet her mind remained sharply awake, restless and alert, as though bracing for something she could not yet see. Every thought seemed to circle back, tightening, refusing to settle into quiet.

She heard the door before she saw him.

Maximilian stepped in, the faint shift of air announcing him, and even before she opened her eyes, she felt it—the warmth of his presence moving closer, familiar enough now that her body recognized him without needing sight. The mattress dipped slightly as he leaned in, placing her phone gently on the nightstand.

Her eyes opened.

"He sent Bernice out," Maximilian said.

The words cut through the haze instantly.

"What?" Catherine pushed herself up, the sheets slipping down her arm as her composure broke. "I asked him to keep her safe. How could he? It hasn’t even been a week."

Maximilian exhaled, rubbing his forehead briefly before answering, his tone measured but strained. "Something happened. Bernice wanted out. She... tried to hurt herself." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Sebastian let her go. Not more than an hour ago."

The anger drained from Catherine’s expression just as quickly as it had come, replaced by something heavier, something far more complicated.

She sank back slightly, her breath leaving her in a slow, controlled exhale.

In that case...

Sebastian couldn’t be blamed.

Bernice had always been that way—stubborn to a fault, fiercely independent even when it hurt her. And Sebastian... the way he loved, which was intense and consuming... she knew exactly how Bernice could have pushed him to that breaking point.

"What an idiot," Catherine murmured, though her voice lacked any real bite, her throat tightening instead. "They found each other after all these centuries... and they still can’t stay together?"

Maximilian’s hand found hers, steady and warm, grounding her before her thoughts could spiral further.

"They don’t remember," he said quietly. "Not truly. And this time... they’re worlds apart. Status. Wealth." His gaze softened slightly. "Apparently, Bernice was upset because he gave money to her mother. Sebastian thought he was helping."

Catherine let out a faint, humorless breath. "Of course, he did."

Her fingers tightened around his unconsciously as her thoughts sharpened again, piecing things together with quiet precision. "She wouldn’t reject it just out of pride," she said, her voice steadier now. "Not entirely. I don’t know her full situation, but I know Bernice... If she refused that strongly, there’s a reason."

Her gaze lowered slightly, distant.

"Maybe her family doesn’t deserve that kind of help."

The thought sat heavily between them. Bernice never even bought herself proper glasses. If money was being rejected like that, it wasn’t pride alone; it was something uglier. Something draining.

Catherine felt a flicker of regret.

She should have asked more. Paid closer attention.

Maximilian hummed quietly, his thumb brushing lightly against her hand, acknowledging her thoughts without interrupting them. If what she suspected was true, then this situation was no longer just emotional; it was dangerous.

Catherine moved first. She reached for her phone and dialed Bernice. Once. Twice.

There was no answer.

Her grip tightened. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Bernice would not ignore her calls. Not now. Not like this.

Without hesitation, Catherine dialed again—this time, a different number.