Chapter 4 - The piano had not been touched in eleven years.Dust covered the polished wood.
I walked toward it slowly.
Behind me, Gabriel entered with two guards.
“What exactly are we looking for?”
“My dead wife's secrets.”
He did not ask questions.
He never did when my voice sounded like that.
I opened the piano lid.
Nothing.
I checked under the bench.
Nothing.
Then I remembered something.
My wife used to hide handwritten letters beneath the keyboard.
I slid my fingers underneath the panel.
A tiny metal compartment clicked.
Gabriel leaned forward.
Inside was a cassette recorder.
And one envelope.
My name was written across it in my wife's handwriting.
My throat tightened.
I opened the envelope.
There was only one sentence.
If Victor ever tries to control your medication, believe Sophia.
I stopped breathing.
Gabriel read the line.
“Who is Sophia?”
“Elena's daughter.”
“Why would your wife know her?”
“I don't know.”
I turned the recorder over.
There was a date.
Eleven years ago.
The week before my wife died.
Gabriel looked at me.
“Play it.”
I pressed the button.
Static.
Then her voice.
Weak.
Whispering.
“Julian, if you're hearing this, something happened to me.”
My knees nearly gave way.
The recording continued.
“I thought I was sick. Victor said the doctors were wrong. He said you were overwhelmed.”
Static.
“Then I found the accounts.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“Which accounts?”
I listened.
“Crown Meridian.”
My blood went cold.
The same company Victor had paid six million dollars.
My wife's voice trembled.
“He isn't helping you.”
A pause.
“He is building around you.”
Static.
“Your doctors. Your lawyers. Your security. Your financial advisers.”
Then silence.
A click.
The recording continued.
“I don't know who else knows. I don't know who I can trust.”
A breath.
“Except Elena.”
Gabriel looked at me sharply.
“Your wife's friend?”
I shook my head.
“Elena wasn't working for me eleven years ago.”
The recording resumed.
“She saw what Victor did.”
Then my wife's voice dropped to nearly a whisper.
“He knows I found out.”
The tape ended.
No goodbye.
No explanation.
Nothing.
I stared at the recorder.
For eleven years, I had believed my wife died from an undiagnosed cardiac condition.
Victor had arranged the funeral.
Victor had chosen the doctors.
Victor had told me she suffered.
And now a recording from eleven years ago was telling me that Victor had been controlling the story.
Gabriel spoke quietly.
“We need to get you out.”
“No.”
“Julian.”
“I need Elena.”
“Why?”
“Because my wife trusted her.”
We found Elena in the kitchen.
She was standing at the sink.
The moment she saw my face, she went pale.
“You found something.”
Not a question.
A confirmation.
I placed the letter on the counter.
Her hands began to shake.
“You knew.”
Elena looked at Sophia, who was coloring at the table.
Then she lowered her voice.
“Not everything.”
“What did you know?”
“Elisa told me to watch Victor.”
My dead wife's name sounded strange in Elena's voice.
Alive.
Recent.
Real.
“When?”
“Two weeks before she died.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Victor told me what would happen if I did.”
“What?”
“He showed me pictures.”
“Of what?”
“My sister.”
I froze.
“Your sister?”
“Elena had disappeared. He said he could make her disappear permanently.”
Gabriel's face hardened.
“You should have gone to the police.”
“I did.”
“When?”
“The day after your wife's funeral.”
My eyes narrowed.
“What happened?”
“The officer I spoke to was transferred the next morning.”
Silence.
Sophia looked up.
“Mom?”
Elena wiped her face.
“Go to your room, sweetheart.”
Sophia shook her head.
“No.”
I crouched beside her.
“Sophia.”
She held up her drawing.
It showed three people.
Me.
Victor.
My wife.
The figure of my wife stood behind a door.
“What does this mean?”
“She told me to draw it.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
Sophia pointed to the third figure.
“Your wife.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“Sophia, you met her?”
Sophia nodded.
“When?”
She pointed toward the old staircase.
“Sometimes.”
Elena grabbed her arm.
“Sophia.”
But Sophia continued.
“She says you forgot something.”
“What?”
Sophia looked at me.
Then she whispered:
“Her red room.”
I frowned.
“What red room?”
My wife had never had a red room.
Not that I knew.
Elena went completely still.
I turned to her.
“You know.”
“I've never been inside.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
“She called it that because Victor called it that.”
“What was it?”
Elena swallowed.
“The room where he took people.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Gabriel's earpiece crackled.
His hand went to his weapon.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We have movement on the third floor.”
“Who?”
Gabriel looked at me.
“Victor.”
A second voice came through.
One of the guards.
“Correction.”
His voice sounded terrified.
“Not Victor.”
“What do you mean?”
May you like
“We have someone else.”
Gunfire exploded above us.
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