Chapter 2 - The Locked RoomThe mansion had never felt so large.
Every corridor seemed to hide another secret.
Ethan moved toward the study while two security guards rushed upstairs.
“Lock the entrances,” he ordered. “Nobody leaves.”
Madison’s voice came sharply behind him.
“Ethan, you’re overreacting.”
He turned.
“Am I?”
She tried to smile.
“Yes.”
“Then explain the man downstairs.”
“He could be anyone.”
“Lily said he comes when you get angry.”
Madison’s face tightened.
“Children imagine things.”
Ethan glanced at Lily.
The little girl was clutching Clara’s hand.
Her eyes never left Madison.
“No,” Lily whispered.
Madison snapped, “Go back to your room.”
Lily flinched.
Ethan noticed.
His expression darkened.
“Nobody speaks to her like that.”
Madison looked offended.
“I was only trying to help.”
“No. You were trying to silence her.”
The study door stood closed.
Ethan reached for the handle.
Locked.
He pulled harder.
Nothing.
One of the guards came forward.
“Sir?”
“Open it.”
The guard hesitated.
“Mr. Whitmore, this room has a secondary lock.”
“Break it.”
The door slammed open.
The study was empty.
Except for one chair.
And a glass of whiskey that was still warm.
Someone had been there moments before.
Ethan stepped inside.
On the desk sat a folder.
His name was written on it.
ETHAN WHITMORE.
He opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Photographs of Clara.
Leaving work.
Walking Lily to school.
Entering the mansion.
Meeting Ethan.
Then photographs of Madison.
Talking to an unknown man outside a hotel.
Handing him envelopes.
Getting into his car.
Ethan stared at the images.
His chest tightened.
“What the hell…”
Madison appeared in the doorway.
She saw the folder.
Her face collapsed.
“Ethan.”
He looked at her.
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“You're lying.”
She shook her head.
“I’m not.”
He held up a photograph.
“You were meeting him three days ago.”
“I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
Madison opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
A sound came from behind Ethan.
Clara.
She had managed to stand with Lily beside her.
She looked at the photographs.
Her face changed.
“You found them.”
Ethan turned.
“What do you mean?”
Clara swallowed.
“I knew there was something wrong.”
“When?”
“Months ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Madison told me what would happen if I did.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“What did she threaten you with?”
Clara looked at Lily.
“She said she would make sure my daughter disappeared.”
The words hit Ethan like a punch.
He stared at Madison.
“You threatened a five-year-old?”
Madison’s eyes filled with tears.
“No.”
Clara’s voice shook.
“She said she knew people who could take Lily away from me.”
Madison whispered, “She’s lying.”
Ethan turned back to the folder.
There was one final photograph.
It showed Madison standing in front of an old building.
Beside her stood a woman.
An older woman.
Ethan stared.
He knew her.
He had seen that face years ago.
In an old family photograph.
His mother.
Dead for fifteen years.
Ethan’s hand shook.
“That’s impossible.”
Clara looked at him.
“What is it?”
“My mother.”
Madison immediately said, “Ethan, don’t.”
He looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know what that photograph means.”
He stepped closer.
“You do.”
Silence.
Then Lily spoke.
“I know.”
Everyone turned.
The little girl swallowed.
“I heard Madison talking.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“What did she say?”
Lily looked at him.
“She said…”
Her small voice became almost inaudible.
“Your mother was never supposed to die.”
Ethan stopped breathing.
The room seemed to tilt.
He grabbed the edge of the desk.
“What did you say?”
Lily repeated it.
“She said your mother was never supposed to die.”
Madison ran toward the child.
But Ethan stepped between them.
“Don’t touch her.”
Madison stopped.
Ethan looked at the photographs again.
Then at Madison.
Then at Clara.
And suddenly, the wound on Clara’s arm became the least important thing in the room.
Because fifteen years ago, Ethan’s mother had died in what everyone called a tragic accident.
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But someone had just suggested it was not an accident.
And Madison knew why.
