Chapter 2 - THE ROOM UPSTAIRSNobody moved.
The voice came again.
“Vittorio… come upstairs.”
Lucy buried her face against Emma.
Marcus stopped struggling.
Bianca stared toward the staircase as if she had suddenly seen a ghost.
Vittorio didn't speak.
He couldn't.
His mother's voice had been unmistakable.
Warm.
Soft.
Slightly trembling.
Exactly as he remembered.
But impossible.
His mother, Isabella Bellini, had died in a private clinic six years earlier.
Vittorio had identified the body himself.
He had watched the coffin disappear beneath the stone chapel floor.
He knew that voice was impossible.
Which made it terrifying.
“Who is upstairs?” he asked.
Bianca shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
Vittorio stepped toward the stairs.
Marcus suddenly grabbed his ankle.
“Don't.”
Vittorio looked down.
Marcus looked genuinely afraid.
Not angry.
Not arrogant.
Afraid.
“What’s in that room?”
Marcus swallowed.
“I don't know.”
Vittorio kicked his hand away.
He walked upstairs.
Emma followed.
Lucy grabbed Emma’s sleeve.
“Don't let Daddy go alone.”
Emma nodded.
The old mansion seemed different tonight.
Every hallway stretched farther.
Every shadow seemed occupied.
Vittorio reached the second floor.
At the end of the corridor stood the locked door to the old study.
The brass handle moved.
Slowly.
From the inside.
Vittorio stopped.
Emma whispered, “Mr. Bellini…”
“I know.”
The handle stopped moving.
Then the door opened three inches.
A woman's eye appeared through the gap.
Vittorio stepped backward.
The door opened wider.
A woman stood inside.
She was thin.
Pale.
Her hair was silver.
And she wore the same dark blue cardigan Isabella had been buried in.
Vittorio couldn't breathe.
“Mom?”
The woman smiled.
Then she whispered:
“You took long enough.”
Vittorio almost collapsed.
Emma screamed.
The woman stepped into the corridor.
She wasn't his mother.
She was a stranger.
But the resemblance was horrifying.
The same eyes.
The same voice.
The same birthmark beneath her left ear.
Vittorio backed away.
“Who are you?”
She smiled sadly.
“My name is Elena.”
“Why do you sound like my mother?”
“Because she taught me.”
Vittorio's stomach twisted.
“What does that mean?”
Elena reached into her pocket.
She pulled out an old photograph.
She gave it to him.
Vittorio stared.
The photo showed his mother at thirty.
Beside her stood another woman.
They were identical.
Twin sisters.
Vittorio whispered:
“She never had a sister.”
Elena smiled.
“She told everyone that.”
Behind them came a crash.
Emma turned.
Marcus had disappeared.
Bianca too.
Only Lucy remained at the bottom of the stairs.
“Daddy!”
Vittorio ran down.
The front doors were open.
Marcus's car was gone.
Bianca was gone.
Lucy stood alone in the entrance hall.
Emma rushed toward her.
Vittorio checked every room.
Nothing.
Then his phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A video had been sent.
He opened it.
It showed Bianca sitting inside a car.
Marcus was driving.
Bianca looked directly into the camera.
Then she smiled.
“You should have listened when I warned you about Emma.”
The video ended.
Another message arrived.
YOU HAVE SIX HOURS.
Then a second line appeared.
IF YOU GO TO THE POLICE, YOUR DAUGHTER DIES.
Vittorio turned.
Lucy was standing beside him.
Emma's face had gone white.
“Elena,” Vittorio said.
The strange woman was already walking downstairs.
“Yes?”
“Who knows about Lucy?”
Elena looked at him.
“Everyone who matters.”
Vittorio felt his blood turn cold.
“Who are they?”
Elena stopped at the bottom step.
Then she said the words that changed everything.
“Your mother didn't die six years ago.”
Vittorio stared.
May you like
Elena continued.
“She was murdered.”
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