She looked up. "Maybe."
"That does not sound convincing."
Genevieve held up a folded paper. "I found something strange."
Nathaniel's attention sharpened instantly. "Related to the bridge?"
She nodded. "A maintenance request."
"Missing records?"
"Part of them." Her expression grew serious. "This document should not exist."
"Why?"
"Because, according to official files, it was destroyed."
Nathaniel stared at the paper. "Yet, here it is."
"Exactly." Excitement mixed with concern in her eyes. "Someone hid it inside an unrelated ledger."
The implications settled heavily between them: another missing piece had surfaced; another question demanded answers.
Genevieve looked down at the document. "The signature section is missing: removed, torn away." She exhaled slowly. "But whoever submitted this request knew the bridge was unsafe months before the collapse."
Nathaniel felt a chill despite the warm evening air. The mystery was deepening, and someone had gone to considerable effort to keep certain names hidden.
Genevieve folded the paper carefully. "I need to know who wrote it."
Nathaniel watched determination harden behind her eyes—the same determination that had carried her through years of unanswered questions, the same determination that made him admire her more than he intended. "You will find out," he said quietly.
Genevieve looked at him for several seconds. Then she smiled—not the polite smile she gave guests, not the amused smile she shared with Charles, but something softer, something that reached her eyes. "Thank you."
The moment lingered. Then footsteps echoed from inside the manor. Charles emerged carrying several books. Genevieve's attention shifted immediately. Nathaniel stepped back. Once again, he found himself watching the two of them together, watching a future that seemed increasingly possible.
And for the first time since arriving at Carter Estate, Nathaniel Ashcroft began to suspect that the greatest threat to his carefully constructed disguise was no longer the hidden truth about the bridge: it was the growing possibility that he was falling in love with the very woman he had originally come to judge.
The discovery of the torn maintenance request changed everything—not because it answered any questions, but because it proved that someone had gone to considerable effort to hide the truth. During the days that followed, Genevieve became even more determined. Nathaniel noticed the difference immediately: she spent longer hours in the library; she reviewed old ledgers late into the evening; she questioned workers who had been employed at Carter Estate for decades. Most remembered very little; others remembered enough to become uncomfortable. Every answer seemed to lead toward another missing piece.
Meanwhile, something else began revealing itself: the mystery surrounding the bridge was not the only thing hidden beneath years of silence; the roots of Victoria Sinclair's resentment were beginning to show.
Nathaniel first noticed it during a breakfast gathering attended by several neighboring families. Sunlight streamed through tall dining room windows. Conversations drifted between discussions of weather, harvest forecasts, and upcoming social events. Genevieve sat near the far end of the table, reviewing notes while simultaneously answering questions about estate improvements. As usual, she handled everything with quiet competence; as usual, most people barely acknowledged it.
Then, one of the guests smiled toward her. "Miss Carter, I heard the drainage project was your idea. The neighboring farms have been praising the results for weeks."