Chapter 2 - The Room No One Entered
Mara cleaned the east corridor while Ethan and Noah watched from the staircase.
They followed rules differently.
Noah listened when she told him not to touch the brass polish.
Ethan touched it immediately, dipped one finger into the yellow paste, and drew a crooked face on the wall.
Mara handed him a cloth.
He frowned.
“You’re supposed to yell.”
“Why?”
“I ruined the wall.”
“You made the wall dirty.”
“It’s expensive.”
“So is the polish you wasted.”
Ethan stared at the cloth.
“What happens now?”
“You clean it.”
“That’s all?”
“That depends on whether you draw another face.”
Ethan wiped the wall in silence.
Noah sat on the bottom stair and examined Mara’s shoes.
They were worn at the toes.
“You’re poor,” he said.
Mrs. Finch, passing with a stack of linens, nearly dropped them.
Mara looked down at her shoes.
“Yes.”
Noah waited for her to become offended.
When she did not, he asked, “Does it hurt?”
“Sometimes.”
“Daddy says money can fix things.”
“Money can fix many things.”
“Can it fix being poor?”
“Sometimes.”
“Can it fix being dead?”
The corridor became still.
Mrs. Finch quickly continued walking.
Mara sat beside Noah on the stair.
“No.”
Noah’s eyes remained on her shoes.
“Then Daddy is wrong.”
“Sometimes.”
Ethan stopped wiping the wall.
“You can’t say Daddy is wrong.”
“I can when he is.”
“He fires people.”
“Then I will look for another job.”
Ethan studied her as though she had answered a riddle.
Most employees feared Daniel.
The twins had learned to use that fear as a weapon.
Mara did not seem impressed by it.
“Would you cry?” Noah asked.
“Possibly.”
“Clarissa cried.”
“Did that make you feel better?”
Noah shook his head.
Ethan said, “She deserved it.”
Mara looked at him.
“Did she?”
“She said Mom didn’t love us enough to stay.”
A cold anger moved through Mara’s chest, but she kept her face calm.
“What did you do?”
“We locked her in the pantry.”
“How long?”
Ethan shrugged.
“Four hours,” Noah whispered.
Mara considered this.
“What she said was cruel.”
Ethan’s expression became triumphant.
“But locking her in a pantry was dangerous.”
His triumph vanished.
“So whose side are you on?”
“Neither.”
“You have to pick.”
“No, I don’t.”
Mara stood and collected her cleaning supplies.
“People can hurt you and still not deserve to be hurt back.”
Ethan’s face hardened.
“That’s stupid.”
“It is inconvenient.”
She moved toward the west corridor.
The twins followed until Mara reached a pair of white double doors secured with an antique lock.
Noah stopped.
“Not there.”
Mara turned.
The west wing was colder than the rest of the house. Dust gathered along the molding. No family photographs hung on its walls.
“Why?”
Ethan stepped in front of his brother.
“It’s closed.”
“I was told the second floor was restricted. No one mentioned this corridor.”
“It belonged to Mom.”
Mara’s hand tightened around the dust cloth.
“What is inside?”
“Nothing,” Ethan said too quickly.
Noah whispered, “Her room.”
Ethan shoved him.
“Stop talking.”
Mara looked at the double doors.
Amelia’s bedroom.
The twins’ mother had kept a separate room in the west wing during the final months of her life. Daniel had told the police it was because she suffered from insomnia.
The newspapers had suggested their marriage was failing.
Mara knew the truth was more complicated.
She had learned that the night Amelia called her for the last time.
Mara stepped away from the doors.
“I won’t go inside.”
Ethan studied her suspiciously.
“You want to.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because closed doors make people curious.”
Noah reached for Mara’s hand, then pulled back before touching her.
“Daddy doesn’t go there.”
Mara lowered her voice.
“Does anyone?”
The twins exchanged a glance.
It lasted less than a second.
But Mara saw it.
“Who?” she asked.
Ethan took Noah’s wrist.
“We’re hungry.”
“You ate half an hour ago.”
“We’re hungry again.”
They hurried away.
Mara remained before the locked doors.
She waited until their footsteps faded.
Then she knelt.
Near the bottom of the doorframe, almost hidden beneath layers of white paint, were three narrow scratches.
Not random marks.
Letters.
A.
M.
E.
The beginning of Amelia’s name.
Or the beginning of a message.
Mara reached toward the scratches.
A man’s voice came from behind her.
“You were told that area is closed.”
She turned.
Daniel stood at the end of the corridor.
He wore a dark suit and held a folder in one hand. His expression was controlled, but his eyes were fixed on Mara’s fingers near the door.
“I was cleaning,” she said.
“Mrs. Finch assigned you to the east corridor.”
“The boys brought me here.”
“The boys are seven.”
“They still know where they are going.”
Daniel approached.
Mara stood.
Up close, he appeared more exhausted than he did in photographs. Silver had begun to touch his temples. A faint scar crossed his chin, left by the accident he had survived when Amelia did not.
“You will not enter my wife’s room.”
“I said I wouldn’t.”
“Curiosity is not permission.”
“No.”
“Then why are you still standing here?”
Mara looked at the scratches.
“Because someone tried to write something on the door.”
Daniel’s face changed.
He looked down.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he crouched and touched the marks.
“They were not there before.”
“You are certain?”
“I sealed this wing myself.”
“After your wife died?”
“Before.”
Mara’s pulse quickened.
“Why?”
Daniel stood.
“That is not your concern.”
He unlocked the door.
Mara took an involuntary step forward.
Daniel noticed.
“You are returning to the east corridor.”
“You said the marks were new.”
“I will handle it.”
“What if someone has been entering the room?”
His eyes turned cold.
“No one enters this wing.”
“Then who made the marks?”
Daniel opened the door only wide enough to step through.
Before closing it, he looked back at Mara.
“Stay away from my sons.”
The command struck harder than she expected.
“Why?”
“My investigator found no employment history for you before last year.”
“I worked privately.”
“For whom?”
“A family that valued privacy.”
“Your address does not exist.”
“I rent a room.”
“The landlord has never heard of you.”
Mara’s throat tightened.
Daniel continued.
“You are using a false name.”
Silence stretched between them.
From somewhere deeper in the west wing came the faint sound of a music box.
Daniel froze.
Mara knew the melody.
Amelia had played it during their last phone call.
May you like
The door slammed shut between them.
Then Daniel locked it from the inside.
