Chapter 48:
Dr. Evans was a kind woman with gray hair and a soft voice. After an hour with Effie, she called Isolde into the office.
“She’s traumatized,” Dr. Evans said bluntly. “She feels abandoned and reced. But she’s also incredibly resilient. And highly intelligent.”
“I know,” Isolde said.
“She needs to rebuild her confidence,” Dr. Evans advised. “She needs to be in an environment where she can excel. Where she can prove to herself that she has value, independent of her father’s approval.”
Isolde nodded. She knew what she had to do.
“St. Jude’s,” Isolde said.
Dr. Evans raised an eyebrow. “That’s a verypetitive school. And… isn’t that where her brother goes?”
“Step-brother,” Isolde corrected. “And yes. It’s the best school in the city for math and science.”
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“It could be a trigger,” Dr. Evans warned.
“Or it could be a victory,” Isolde said. “She needs to face the monster, Doctor. She needs to realize she’s smarter than him.”
That night, Isolde sat Effie down at the table.
“How would you like to go to a school with a roboticsb?” Isolde asked.
Effie’s eyes lit up. “Real robots?”
“Real robots. And advanced math.”
“But…” Effie hesitated. “Kaiden goes there.”
“He does,” Isolde said. “But Kaiden is in the regr ss. You, my love, are going to try out for the Gifted Program.”
Effie looked at the logic puzzle book on the table. She picked up a pencil.
“Will I beat him?” Effie asked.
Isolde smiled. “Effie, you’re going top him.”
They spent the next week preparing. Effie devoured the logic problems. Her mind worked in patterns Isolde recognized—it was the same way she saw aerodynamics.
Watching her daughter solve aplex matrix in seconds, Isolde felt a fierce pride swell in her chest.
They had thrown away a diamond because they were too busy polishing a piece of coal.
“Ready?” Isolde asked on the night before the entrance exam.
Effie grinned. “Ready tounch.”
Isolde needed Effie’s birth certificate and vination records for the St. Jude’s application.
They were locked in the safe at the penthouse.
She timed her visit carefully. 2:00 PM on a Wednesday. Grayson would be at SkyLine, dealing with the fallout of the Sophia disaster. Belle would be at the spa or shopping. Kaiden would be at school.
She took a deep breath and pulled out her phone. She didn’t have a key; she had something better. Years ago, while setting up the penthouse’s “imprable” smart home system, she’d embedded a ghost protocol, a master override only she knew existed. A few taps on a custom app, and the electronic lock on the front door clicked open with a soft, obedient chime. She knew it was a risk; if Grayson discovered a clean breach, his mind might leap to the one engineer who could pull it off. But his arrogance was her shield. He would assume a glitch or a forgetful nanny before he would ever suspect her.
The penthouse was silent.
As she stepped inside, a smell hit her.
It wasn’t the smell of lemon polish or fresh flowers anymore.
It was heavy. Floral. Musky.
.
.
.