Cassia's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Cassia gathered her siblings in the kitchen after the dinner service ended. She waited until the last cook had left, until the counters were clean and the doors were locked. Then she told them about the notes. Morpheus leaned against the walk-in freezer, arms crossed. Phobetor sat on a stool by the prep station, watching her face. Dimitrios stood near the counter, hands flat against the steel surface. His knuckles were white. When Cassia finished speaking, he was the first to break the silence. "I wrote them," he said. His voice was steady but his hands stayed pressed down, scarred from years of kitchen work, trembling slightly. "Both of them. The first one under the cutting board. The second one in the storage room." He looked at her directly. "I needed you to know someone was watching. That Demeter's name was being spoken again. I couldn't just ask you. You would have said it was handled." Cassia felt the air leave her chest. She had been prepared to name her suspect, to break her silence about Demeter in front of witnesses who would hold her accountable. Instead, her brother had already been protecting her in the only way he knew how—by forcing her hand before someone else could use her silence against her. Dimitrios pushed away from the counter and walked to the office door. He returned with a chef's coat on a hanger, the fabric clean and pressed. He reached into the pocket and pulled out a third note, this one older, creased from being folded and unfolded many times. "I wrote the first warning three months ago," he said. "When I heard she was close. I kept it in my coat, waiting for the right moment to leave it where you'd find it." His scarred hands held the paper carefully, like something fragile. "I've been watching longer than you knew." Cassia took the note from him and read the same three words she'd found under the cutting board. She understood now that her brother hadn't acted out of distrust. He had acted because he trusted her to do what was right once she knew the danger was real. The law of xenia required her to protect everyone under her roof, but she couldn't protect anyone if her silence made her a shield for someone dangerous. Dimitrios had broken that silence for her, at the cost of her thinking he was working against her. She folded the note and handed it back. "Tonight," she said. "I'll tell everyone what I know about Demeter. No more waiting." Her siblings nodded, and she felt the weight shift from solitary burden to shared responsibility. The choice to speak was still hers, but now she wouldn't carry the consequences alone.