fit.
Not one poison.
Several ordinary things accumulating.
The boys’ floor had become a chemically irritating environment without anyone ever meaning to create one.
Then Thomas found the approval signature on the renovation invoice.
Nathan’s brother.
Michael Coleman.
The room shifted again.
Nathan looked at the document.
“Michael approved this?”
Thomas nodded.
Michael had died four years earlier.
Before Catherine.
Before the boys became sick.
Nathan stared.
“My brother managed the estate then.”
Mrs. Bennett said quietly:
“He handled the renovation.”
Nathan’s face changed.
Not suspicion.
Memory.
“What happened after the contractor reported the curing problem?”
Thomas pointed to a note.
“Michael instructed them to seal the section and continue.”
Nathan looked at him.
“Why?”
“Timeline.”
“What timeline?”
Mrs. Bennett answered.
“Catherine’s birthday party.”
The house had hosted eighty guests.
Michael did not want construction delayed.
One decision.
Make the deadline.
Hide the unfinished problem behind walls.
No one intended
