Chapter 58

Olivia's fingers trembled slightly as she clutched the delicate porcelain shards. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the study windows made the gold leaf detailing shimmer like liquid honey.

"That wasn't actually an illness back then. I ensured she had the finest medical care available," Margaret remarked, her hawk-like gaze studying Olivia's reaction with unsettling intensity. When Olivia finally nodded, her smile felt brittle enough to crack.

A bitter laugh caught in Olivia's throat. What could she possibly tell Liam now? Margaret had explicitly forbidden her from bearing Liam's children and even suggested divorcing him soon - all supposedly for Henry's sake. Revealing her past pregnancy and subsequent termination was unthinkable.

"Indeed?" Liam's expression remained an unreadable mask as he took his seat without further questions.

The dinner passed in tense silence, though Margaret surprisingly refrained from her usual barbed comments. As dessert plates were cleared, Olivia caught Liam's eye with a series of subtle hand gestures she'd perfected over years of silence. The antique teapot - Henry's favorite piece shattered during his final days - had been weighing on her mind since returning to Newport.

Without hesitation, Liam nodded. "We'll retrieve it shortly."

Relief flooded Olivia's chest. She remembered how Henry's hands had trembled uncontrollably that day, the heartbreak in his eyes as the centuries-old heirloom slipped from his grasp. At the time, restoration seemed impossible, but now...

Henry's study remained untouched in the guest house behind the main estate. Liam waited at the threshold while Olivia entered alone. She found the teapot fragments exactly where she remembered - carefully preserved in velvet-lined mahogany.

Clutching the box, Olivia lingered among the leather-bound books and polished oak. The scent of pipe tobacco still clung faintly to the drapes. Memories assaulted her - Henry teaching her to distinguish Ming from Qing dynasty porcelain, his deep chuckle when she'd hidden beneath this very desk during important meetings.

This room held her last real conversation with Henry before marrying Liam. "I'm not asking Liam to care for you," he'd said, polishing his spectacles with that familiar deliberate motion. "I'm asking you to care for him. That boy's built walls thicker than Fort Knox, but you..." His eyes had twinkled then. "You've always had the key."

Olivia had promised fervently. But reality proved crueler than childhood dreams. Liam's rare moments of openness hadn't been trust - just practicality. What secrets could a mute girl reveal? And after their marriage, the combined coldness from Liam and Margaret eroded her confidence completely.

Perhaps she owed Henry one more attempt before considering divorce. The thought surprised even herself. Wiping sudden tears, Olivia exited to find Catherine blocking her path with a saccharine smile.

"Henry's things?" Catherine's gaze flickered over the box dismissively. "Stay tonight, Olivia! We'll go shopping tomorrow - just us girls!" Her sudden warmth set alarm bells ringing. Olivia instinctively turned toward Liam, then caught herself - since when did she expect his intervention?

"She's returning with me." Liam's flat refusal made both women startle. Catherine recovered quickly, squeezing Olivia's arm. "Tomorrow then! I'll collect you at ten!" Trapped, Olivia could only nod.

In the car, Liam turned abruptly. "You're mute, Olivia, not paralyzed." His fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the steering wheel. "When my mother orders you to kneel, why not walk out? Call the police? Scream? What's stopping you - is she holding a gun to your head?"

Olivia gaped at him. Was Liam Blackwood actually encouraging rebellion against Margaret Winslow?

"If it happens again, you call me immediately. Understood?" His intensity made her nod vigorously, tears pricking her eyes. This version of Liam felt like a stranger.

"Has she done this before?" The questions came rapid-fire now. "How often? What exactly did she make you do?"

The car accelerated toward the iron gates, leaving Winslow Manor behind them. Olivia pressed trembling fingers to the window glass, watching her reflection blur with the passing streetlights. For the first time in years, something fragile and hopeful stirred in her chest.