The moment Alaric flipped open the diary, Adeline saw the shift in his expression. His normally composed face, always guarded and unreadable, twisted into something raw, something vulnerable. His fingers tensed around the old pages, his eyes scanning over the words their mother had written all those years ago.
Adeline sat quietly, giving him the time to absorb it. She had already read it, already felt the rush of emotions that came with learning about their mother's past—the anger, the sadness, the bitter satisfaction that, in the end, they both wanted the same thing. Revenge.
Alaric's breath was uneven as he turned another page. His hands clenched slightly when he reached the part about their mother believing she was going to have a daughter. The part where she had sworn that her child would never have to meet the Richmonds, that she would be free from them.
Alaric let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "She thought she was having a girl."
Adeline nodded, but didn't say anything.
