Chapter 16 #3
"You need to stop accepting whatever everyone else decides for you.
" I tell her gently. "I know it's easier said than done.
I know standing up to people like Fergus and Darragh and Conall feels impossible.
But if you keep surrendering every decision to them, they will keep taking pieces of you until there's nothing left. "
A shaky breath escapes her.
"You have to fight for yourself, Roisin. Because the truth is that nobody else in this family is going to do it for you."
That finally breaks her. She lowers her head, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes as another wave of tears overtakes her. For several seconds, the only sound in the room is the uneven rhythm of her breathing as she fights for control she no longer seems capable of holding onto.
When she finally speaks again, her voice is barely above a whisper. "Nobody has ever said that to me before."
My chest tightens.
Roisin lets out a small, broken laugh that holds absolutely no humor. "Nobody has ever taken my side before either."
The words settle heavily between us. For a moment, she says nothing else. Her gaze remains fixed somewhere near the floor, as though looking at me while saying any of this would somehow make it more real.
"I spent years convincing myself that maybe I was overreacting." She says eventually. "That maybe I was imagining things that weren't there."
Her fingers twist tightly in the fabric of her dress.
"Everyone always talks about monsters like they're obvious. Like you'll recognize them immediately." Another humorless laugh escapes her. "Nobody tells you what happens when they look like family."
A cold feeling settles low in my stomach. "Roisin..."
"It started when I was thirteen."
The room seems to stop around us.
She doesn't look at me.
"My uncle used to find excuses to get me alone. Family gatherings. Holidays. Weekends here at the manor." Her voice grows quieter with every sentence. "At first it was easy to explain away. A hand on my shoulder that stayed too long. Standing too close. Touching my hair."
Her fingers tighten further around the sleeve of her dress. "Then it stopped being things I could explain away."
My jaw clenches.
"It went on for years." She laughs again, and somehow that hurts more than the tears. "I became very good at avoiding rooms he was in. Very good at making sure there were always other people nearby."
Her gaze drifts toward the window. "I stopped wearing short sleeves when I was fifteen."
The words hit me harder than they should. I think about the high necklines. The long sleeves. The layers of fabric despite the heat. They were not fashion. They were her armor.
"I finally stopped him when I was twenty-three."
My eyes return to her immediately.
Roisin nods once.
"I fought back." Her voice shakes slightly. "I threatened to tell everyone if he ever touched me like that again."
"He stopped?"
"The worst of it stopped."
The distinction makes my stomach turn.
"He still finds excuses." She says quietly. "A hand on my back when nobody is looking. My waist when he walks past me. My arm if we're standing too close together." She swallows hard. "Just enough to remind me he can."
Anger rises so quickly inside me that it almost feels physical.
"Does Darragh know?"
She closes her eyes briefly. "I told him."
"And?"
"I told Darragh and he told Fergus."
For one brief second, relief tries to surface. Then I see her expression.
"They asked me to let it go."
The words land like a blow.
Roisin stares down at her hands. "They said the Lindbergs couldn't find out."
I don't say anything. I don't trust myself to.
"The engagement with Axel is important politically." Her voice has gone flat now, emptied of emotion through repetition. "Our families arranged it when I was eleven. If the Lindbergs found out about any of this, the marriage would fall apart."
"And the alliance with it." I finish quietly.
She nods. "They said too much depended on it."
My hands curl into fists. "So they chose the alliance."
"They called it protecting the family." The bitterness in her voice cuts deeper than the tears ever could. Fresh tears slip down her cheeks. "But you believed me."
The words are so quiet I almost miss them.
I lean forward slightly. "Because I do believe you."
Her eyes finally meet mine.
For the first time since I've known her, the sharp edges she keeps wrapped around herself begin to crack apart, revealing the frightened, exhausted woman hidden beneath years of anger and sarcasm and carefully controlled distance.
"Thank you, Vivienne." The gratitude in her voice hurts almost as much as everything else she has told me. "Thank you for staying."
I reach for her hand and squeeze it gently. "You should never have had to survive this alone."
Another tear slips down her cheek.
"I know that now." She whispers.
For the first time since I met her, Roisin doesn't look completely alone anymore. Until now, I had viewed her as another member of the Keegan family. Another obstacle. Another person standing on the opposite side of this operation.
Now, as I walk through the silent halls of the estate, I realize how wrong I was. For all her sharp remarks and cold defenses, Roisin is trapped inside these walls just as surely as anyone imprisoned behind bars.