“Promised?” He gave a sharp laugh. “I said I’d return them if you accompanied someone. You only went to Mr. Dale—so you get one thing.”
The bitter taste of blood rose in her throat. Pain radiated through her ribs as she crumpled to the floor.
“Soren, you—”
“Three seconds,” he cut in coldly. “Three… two…”
“My mother’s piano!” she screamed, dragging herself upright.
Agatha’s voice was syrupy sweet.
“Soren, is that the Carrington family’s custom piano? I’ve never seen it. Can I try?”
He smiled indulgently. “Of course.”
As he set her on the bench, she curled her fingers around a lighter, hiding it from him, and flashed Linnea a sly grin.
Linnea lunged forward, grabbing her hand.
“This piano is my mother’s last hope of remembering. Please—”
She dropped to her knees, bowing desperately.
Agatha’s eyes welled with crocodile tears.
“Soren, she hates me. I didn’t mean to steal it… I only touched it and she—”
His gaze softened at the sight of his sister’s double. In the next breath, his boot slammed into Linnea’s chest.
“Killed my sister, now you won’t leave Agatha alone? Still acting innocent?”
His grip on her hand was crushing.
“You like to act? Take it out and burn it!”