#Chapter 223: The Conspirators

Iris The digital clock on our nightstand reads 2:47 AM, but neither of us seems keen on sleeping. We haven’t said much since we got home from the party, put Miles to bed, and climbed into our own—just laid here, staring up at the dark ceiling. Arthur lies beside me, his hands folded over his stomach, eyes fixed on the ceiling. I’m on my side facing him now, watching the subtle rise and fall of his chest. “Say something,” I finally whisper, unable to bear the silence any longer. He hasn’t said much at all since Alfred told him the truth about his father’s affair. Arthur sighs heavily. “What is there to say? My father had an affair. He fathered a child. He denied that child when confronted.” He turns his head to look at me. “And now that child is trying to destroy my career.” I reach out to touch his arm, feeling the tension in his bicep. Arthur doesn’t usually get like this unless it’s really serious. “I know it’s a lot to process,” I say gently. “Th