Chapter 15
Rory
I follow Declan and Connor into the study, trying to ignore the knot forming in my stomach. Whatever prompted our hasty return from Toronto can’t be good news. Kane joins us, closing the door with a soft click that somehow sounds ominous in the suddenly quiet room.
“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Kane asks, leaning against the massive oak desk that dominates the space. “You three look like you’re heading to a funeral, not a family Christmas.”
Declan runs a hand through his hair, a rare gesture of uncertainty from my usually composed boss. “I received a call last night. From Russia.”
The room temperature feels like it dropped by 10 degrees. Russia means Mikhail. Ella’s past. Danger.
“What kind of call?” I ask, perched on the arm of a leather chair.
“A warning. About Ella.” Declan’s voice is tight, controlled. “The caller knew she was here. Knew about Nora.”
Kane’s posture shifts immediately, tension radiating from every muscle. “What exactly did they say?”
“That Ella isn’t who she says she is.” Declan meets each of our eyes in turn. “They told me to ask her about St. Petersburg. About what really happened the night she ran.”
I let out a slow breath, processing this. “Could be a bluff. Someone fishing for information.”
“Maybe,” Declan concedes. “But how many people know enough to connect Ella to us? To this place?”
“Not many,” Connor interjects, pacing the small space between bookshelves. “Tomas kept this property separate from his public holdings. It’s not linked to the MacGallan name in any searchable records.”
I watch Kane’s face darken as the implications sink in. “So, either someone’s been watching her for a long time...”
“Or someone very connected is looking for her now,” I finish for him.
“Either way, we need to know exactly what we’re dealing with,” Declan says firmly. “We need the whole truth from Ella.”
I shift uncomfortably, torn between concern for their sister and respect for her privacy. “She’s kept these secrets for eight years, Declan. For good reason, apparently. We can’t just demand she spill everything because of one cryptic phone call.”
“We can if it puts Nora at risk,” Kane counters, his voice hard. “If someone’s found them here, their safety is compromised.”
“Agreed,” Connor nods. “But we need to be careful how we approach this. Ella’s skittish enough as it is. Push too hard, and she might bolt.”
I’ve been thinking the same thing. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve recognized something in her that resonates with me—the instinct to run when cornered—the preference for fight or flight, with a heavy lean toward fight for me.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, looking to Declan. Despite our complicated history, he’s still the one we turn to for strategy.
“We’ll talk to her tonight, after Nora’s asleep,” he decides after a moment. “All of us, together. No accusations, just honesty about the call and our concerns.”
Kane nods slowly. “And if she won’t tell us?”
“Then we respect her choice,” I say firmly, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice. “But make it clear we’re here regardless. That she’s not alone anymore.”
A knock at the door interrupts us. It swings open to reveal Kori, holding a tray of steaming mugs.
“Hot chocolate delivery,” she announces, then pauses as she takes in our serious expressions. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Family meeting,” Kane says, moving to take the tray from her. “Thanks for this.”
She studies his face, clearly picking up on the tension. “Everything okay?”
“Not sure yet,” he replies honestly. “We’ll fill you in later.”
Kori nods, understanding the dismissal. “Nora’s story is wrapping up. So that you know.”
Once she’s gone, we each take a mug of hot chocolate, the cheerful mini marshmallows floating on top at odds with the gravity of our conversation.
“So, we’re agreed?” Declan confirms, looking at each of us. “Tonight, after Nora’s in bed.”
We all nod, a silent pact formed over steaming mugs of chocolate. Whatever storm is coming, we’ll face it together.
When we return to the great room, the scene is so peaceful it makes my chest ache.
Ella sits on the couch with Nora curled against her side, reading from a worn copy of “The Night Before Christmas.” The fire crackles softly, casting warm light across their faces.
The others are scattered around the room, listening with expressions ranging from nostalgic to amused.
“...and I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, ‘Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!’” Ella finishes, gently closing the book.
“Again?” Nora asks hopefully, fighting to keep her eyes open.
“Tomorrow,” Ella promises, kissing the top of her head. “It’s bedtime for elves.”
“But Uncle Rory just got back,” she protests, spotting me as I enter the room. “He hasn’t told me about Toronto yet.”
I force a smile, crossing to ruffle her hair. “Toronto was boring, squirt. Just a bunch of grown-ups talking about boring grown-up stuff. But I did bring you something.”
Her eyes light up instantly. “A present?”
“Maybe,” I tease, reaching into my pocket. “If you go brush your teeth and get ready for bed like your mom asked, I might remember where I put it.”
“I’m going!” she declares, scrambling off the couch with renewed energy. “Mom, come on!”
Ella laughs, standing to follow her daughter. “The magic words: potential presents.” She glances at me with gratitude. “We’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Twenty tops.”
Once they’re gone, the artificial cheer drains from the room. Kori and the others look between us expectantly, clearly sensing something’s wrong.
“What’s going on?” Wren asks directly. “You four look like someone died.”
Declan sighs, taking a seat by the fire. “We need to talk about Ella. And we need all of you to hear this.”
As he explains the mysterious call, I watch their reactions closely. Shock, concern, anger—emotions flicker across their faces in waves. By the time he finishes, the cozy room feels colder despite the blazing fire.
“So, the other day, Jake Brennan said there have been strange cars on the road behind Ella's place. Someone knows she’s here,” Lana says slowly. “Someone who might be dangerous.”
“Maybe. Or it could just be someone out hunting. But that could explain her behavior at the tree lighting,” Kat adds, uncharacteristically serious. “She saw something—or someone—that spooked her enough to stay here instead of going home.”
I hadn’t heard about this. “What happened at the tree lighting?”
“She disappeared for a while,” Mia explains. “Came back looking pale. Insisted on staying here that night instead of going back to her cottage.”
The pieces click together in my mind. “She might have already seen whoever’s looking for her.”
“All the more reason to get the full story tonight,” Kane says grimly.
“Before we ambush her,” I caution, “remember she’s been protecting Nora alone for eight years. Her instinct will be to run, not confide.”
“So, what do we do?” Kori asks, looking around the room. “How do we convince her to trust us with whatever this is?”
“By proving we’re trustworthy,” I say simply. “No demands, no pressure. Just support, whatever she decides to tell us.”
The others nod in agreement, though I can see the worry etched on their faces. The perfect family Christmas we were building has just acquired an unwelcome shadow.
“I brought presents,” I say suddenly, remembering the small packages in my luggage. “For everyone, but especially for Nora. We should still give her a normal evening, before...” I trail off, not needing to finish the thought.
“Good idea,” Wren agrees, understanding immediately. “Let’s keep things normal for her sake.”
We hear footsteps on the stairs, and the conversation shifts instantly. By the time Nora bounces back into the room in candy cane pajamas, we’re discussing tomorrow’s plans for sledding on the hill behind the lodge as if nothing is wrong.
“Ready for that present?” I ask her, producing a small, wrapped package from my pocket.
“Yes!” she exclaims, taking it with reverent hands. “Can I open it now?”
“That’s generally how presents work,” I tease, watching as she carefully unwraps the paper to reveal a small wooden puzzle box, intricately carved with forest animals.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, running her fingers over the detailed work. “How do you open it?”
I kneel beside her, showing her the hidden panels and sliding pieces. “It’s a puzzle box from Japan. You have to solve it to get to the secret compartment inside.”
“A secret compartment?” Her eyes widen with delight. “Is there something in it?”
“Only one way to find out,” I wink, watching as she immediately begins experimenting with the panels.
Ella stands behind her, one hand resting protectively on Nora’s shoulder. When she meets my eyes, I see gratitude there, but also something else—a wariness that makes my heart sink. On some level, she already knows something’s wrong.
“Okay, puzzle master,” she says gently to Nora, “time for bed. You can work on opening that tomorrow.”
“But I’m close!” Nora protests, though her eyelids are drooping. “I can feel it.”
“The puzzle will still be there in the morning,” Ella promises, taking it gently from her hands. “Say goodnight to everyone.”
Nora makes her rounds, hugging each of us tightly. When she gets to me, she whispers, “Thank you for my puzzle. I’m going to find the secret tomorrow.”
“I know you will,” I whisper back, squeezing her petite frame. “Sweet dreams, squirt.”
As Ella leads her upstairs, the warmth seems to leave the room with them. We sit in tense silence, waiting for the conversation none of us want to have but all know is necessary.
I find myself staring at the Christmas tree, at the small glass star Ella said they made during their first Christmas here. How many Christmases has she spent looking over her shoulder? How many moments of joy have been shadowed by fear?
Whatever secrets Ella’s been keeping, whatever happened in St. Petersburg, I’m suddenly sure of one thing: we can’t let her face it alone anymore. Not when she finally has a family to stand with her.
The sound of Ella’s footsteps returning down the stairs breaks the silence. It’s time for the truth.