Life at the manor revolves around maintaining appearances.
The household staff moves with precision, whispers barely audible behind closed doors.
My father, distant and detached, avoids discussing the triplets.
Power rests heavily with my mother, whose authority remains unchallenged.
The staff treats her with a mix of fear and reverence.
They pass along her silences and secrets without question.
When I try to ask about that night, my questions are met with cold dismissals.
Or reminders about social propriety.
The butler, ever watchful, seems to know more than he lets on.
Over the years, unease around the triplets’ story has escalated.
