Julian leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing.

“You know sign language,” he said.

“Yes,” Elise replied. “My brother is deaf.”

Julian's expression changed, a darker shadow creeping into the confusion.

"It's not possible," he said slowly. "My mother isn't deaf."

Lillian's hands moved quickly, urgently.

Elise felt a tightness in her chest as she followed the signals, instinctively translating.

“Please tell him  ,” Lillian motioned. “   They never let me.”

Elise hesitated.

Across the room, Marjorie was watching.

The distance between them suddenly seemed much shorter.

“What is he saying?” Julian asked, his voice sharpening now.

Elise inhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her from all sides.

“He’s saying,” Elise began cautiously, “that he hasn’t been able to hear in years.”

Julian stared at her, a look of disbelief written on his face.

“That's not true. His doctors—”

Lillian interrupted him, moving her hands again, faster this time, more insistently.

Elise swallowed.

"She says the doctors were hired by the company that managed your father's estate," Elise continued. "They took care of everything after his death. She didn't understand what they were saying. She trusted them."

Julian leaned back slightly, his expression hardening.

“Who?” he asked in a low voice.

Before Elise could respond, a voice cut through the moment like a blade.

“That will be enough.”

Marjorie now stood beside the table, her posture stiff and her smile gone.

"Elise," he said coldly. "You're here to serve, not to make up stories. Apologize. Now."

The room seemed to be breathing still.

Elise sensed it: the glances, the attention, the change in atmosphere.

She thought of Jonah, sitting at home, probably drawing in the dim light of the kitchen, unaware that his future might depend on what he said next.

He thought back to every moment when someone had spoken around him instead of directly to him.

And then he straightened up.

“I’m not making this up,” he said softly.

Marjorie's expression darkened. "Either you apologize, or you leave."

“Wait,” Julian said.

The word was not spoken aloud, but it spread.

He looked Elise straight in the eyes.

“Tell me everything,” he said.

This time there was no hesitation.

Elise turned back to Lillian, her hands moving as she asked a single, simple question.

Do you want me to tell him everything?

Lillian's response came without hesitation.

YES.

What followed unfolded slowly at first, then suddenly, like something long buried finally resurfacing. Lillian explained, through Elise, how after her husband's death, control of the estate had passed to a council of advisors: men she trusted, men who had presented her with documents, contracts, decisions that needed to be made quickly. She had signed where directed, nodded when they spoke, unaware that she was agreeing to more than she understood, because she couldn't hear their explanations, and no one had bothered to make sure she truly understood them.