I called Eleanor the next morning and asked her to meet me at a café near her hotel.
Neutral territory and public space. No Xander to complicate things with his own emotional baggage. I needed to see her face when I confronted her, to read her reaction without interference.
She arrived precisely on time, dressed impeccably as always, her silver-streaked hair swept back from her face. She settled into the chair across from me with the practiced grace of someone who'd spent decades navigating uncomfortable social situations.
"Daphne, this is unexpected," her tone was carefully neutral. "I assumed after our last conversation, you'd prefer to communicate through Xander."
"Some conversations need to happen directly," I kept my voice steady, my hands wrapped around a coffee cup I had no intention of drinking. "Someone tried to pick up Nina and Lisa from school yesterday."
Eleanor's expression flickered—surprise, followed by something sharper. "I beg your pardon?"
"A woman showed up with forged documentation claiming I'd authorized an early release and told them she was a friend of Grandma's." I watched her face carefully. "She asked about their routines, their snacks, what time I usually pick them up."
"And you think I had something to do with this?" Eleanor's voice rose, not with defensiveness but with something that sounded like genuine outrage. "You think I would send someone to—what? Kidnap my own grandchildren?"
"She referenced you specifically."
"That's absurd," Eleanor set down her tea cup with enough force to rattle the saucer. "I would never—Daphne, whatever you think of me, whatever issues exist between us, I would never do anything to frighten those children. They're my blood. My legacy."
"Then explain the connection. Why the hell would a stranger invoke your name to try to take my daughters?"
"I can't explain it because I had nothing to do with it," Eleanor's composure cracked further, her cheeks flushing with what appeared to be genuine fury. "Do you have any idea how offensive this accusation is? Yes, I've been hard on people, including my own son, but endangering children? Traumatizing little girls? That is beneath me."
I studied her face, searching for cracks in the performance or for tells that would reveal the manipulation beneath the outrage. But all I saw was a woman who seemed genuinely appalled by what I was suggesting.
"I'm not happy that Xander chose you," Eleanor continued, her voice lower now but no less intense. "I've made that clear. But I would never—never—do anything to stress my granddaughters in such a traumatic way."
I wanted her to be guilty, wanted the clear enemy, the obvious villain, the person I could point to and say this is the threat. Instead, I was looking at a woman who seemed genuinely wounded by the accusation.
And that realization chilled me more than confirmation would have.
"If it wasn't you," I said slowly, "then who else would reference you? Who has a reason to target our family?"
"I intend to find it out," Eleanor's jaw tightened. "Someone used my name and made me look like a monster. That is not something I will tolerate."
We sat in silence for a long moment, the café noise washing around us like water around stones. I'd come here expecting confrontation, expecting to unmask a villain. Instead, I'd found something far more unsettling: uncertainty.
"I need to ask you something," I said finally. "And I want you to answer honestly."
"Ask."
"Do you have enemies? People who might want to hurt you by hurting your family? Business rivals, former partners, anyone with a grudge?"
Eleanor's expression shifted—thoughtful now rather than defensive. "Everyone in my position has enemies, but using children as leverage..." she shook her head. "That's not business but something personal."
"Think about it, please. If anything comes to mind, I need to know."
"I'll consider it," Eleanor rose, gathering her coat. "For what it's worth, Daphne, I hope we find whoever did this and make them pay."
I sat alone in the café, my untouched coffee growing cold, trying to process what had just happened.
I'd been so certain. The pieces had fit so neatly, but Eleonor’s reaction hadn't been the response of someone caught. Which meant the real threat was still out there. Still unknown, still dangerous.
My mind kept cycling through possibilities, through suspects, through the growing list of people who might want to hurt our family. Victor Ashford with his wounded pride. Unknown enemies Eleanor might have accumulated over decades in business.
Or someone else entirely. Someone we hadn't even considered yet.
When I walked through the door of the penthouse, the sounds of the twins playing in the living room washed over me like a balm. The normalcy of it, the ordinariness, made my chest ache.
Xander found me in the kitchen, staring out the window at the city below.
"She denied everything,” I said. “Seemed genuinely offended by the accusation."
"Do you believe her?"
I considered the question carefully. "I think I do, which terrifies me."
Xander was quiet for a moment. "So we're back to not knowing."
I turned to face him, taking in the exhaustion written across his features. The tension in his shoulders, the worry lines that seemed deeper every day. "We're both running on fumes, Xander. The girls are picking up on it. They've been subdued ever since the school incident."
"What are you suggesting?"
"A family outing. Something normal, something fun, you know. The zoo, maybe, or the aquarium. A day where we're not thinking about threats and enemies and corporate machinations, just the four of us, being a family."
His expression softened. "That sounds... really nice, actually."
"We need it, all of us." I reached for his hand. "We can't protect them if we're falling apart, and right now, that's exactly what's happening. The stress is eating us alive."
Xander pulled me into his arms, his chin resting on top of my head. "Saturday. We'll go to the aquarium. Nina's been asking about the jellyfish exhibit."
"And Lisa wants to see the otters."
"Then jellyfish and otters it is," he pressed a kiss to my temple. "Whatever's coming, we'll face it together. But you're right—we need to remember why we're fighting in the first place."
I leaned into his warmth, letting myself breathe for what felt like the first time in days. The threat wasn't gone, but we were still here, still standing, still a family.
That had to count for something.