Chapter 2 - The Locked West Wing
Everett climbed the staircase two steps at a time.
Celeste followed.
“Everett, stop.”
He reached the west corridor and found the double doors secured by a brass chain.
The doors had never been locked during his lifetime.
He pulled at the chain.
“Where is the key?”
Celeste folded her arms.
“The contractors have it.”
The crying had stopped.
The silence frightened him more.
Everett took a bronze statue from a side table and struck the lock. The first blow bent the chain. The second tore one bracket from the frame.
Celeste grabbed his sleeve.
“You are damaging your own house.”
“My family is behind that door.”
He hit the chain again.
It fell to the floor.
The corridor beyond was cold and dim. White sheets covered the furniture. Several windows had been opened despite the rain, and damp air moved through the hallway.
Everett called Maren’s name.
No answer.
He checked the guest rooms one by one. Empty.
The nursery door stood open.
Inside, Noah’s crib was empty.
A bottle sat untouched on the table.
Everett touched it.
Cold.
Behind him, Celeste spoke with controlled patience.
“Maren became emotional after the birth. She asked for privacy.”
“She would never leave Noah’s bottle here.”
“You barely know how women behave after childbirth.”
Everett turned toward her.
“I know how Maren behaves.”
He noticed scratches on the inside of the nursery door.
Not random marks.
Four vertical lines had been carved near the handle.
Someone had tried to force it open from within.
Everett stepped closer.
Celeste moved between him and the door.
“It was damaged during the renovations.”
“There are no renovations.”
The sound of footsteps came from the far end of the corridor.
A man in gray medical clothing emerged from a bedroom.
Everett recognized Dr. Pierce, his mother’s private physician.
The doctor carried a black case.
“What are you doing here?” Everett asked.
Dr. Pierce stopped.
“Your mother requested an assessment.”
“Of whom?”
The doctor glanced at Celeste.
Everett crossed the distance between them.
“Where are Maren and Noah?”
“I was told Miss Vale had been moved to another property.”
“Which property?”
“I don’t know.”
Everett took out his phone.
“Then you can explain that to the police.”
Dr. Pierce’s composure broke.
“There is no need for police.”
“Then answer me.”
The doctor looked at Celeste again.
She gave the smallest shake of her head.
Everett saw it.
“Mrs. Bell heard a door being locked,” he said. “The nurse I hired was dismissed. Maren’s phone is disconnected. My son’s crib is empty. And my mother is signaling you not to speak.”
Dr. Pierce closed his case.
“I was asked to prepare a statement saying Miss Vale was medically unfit to care for the child.”
Everett felt the corridor tilt.
“On what evidence?”
“None that I personally examined.”
Celeste’s voice became sharp.
“That is enough, Doctor.”
Everett stepped toward her.
“You tried to have Maren declared unfit?”
“I tried to protect Noah.”
“From his mother?”
“From instability.”
Maren had no history of instability. She had managed an architecture firm, cared for her younger sister after their parents died, and endured months of public scrutiny without once losing control.
Everett looked back at Dr. Pierce.
“Where is the statement?”
The doctor hesitated, then opened his case.
The folder inside was empty.
Dr. Pierce frowned.
“It was here.”
Celeste’s expression changed.
Someone had taken it.
A door slammed at the far end of the corridor.
Everett ran toward the sound and found a narrow service staircase leading down to the old wine cellar.
At the top step lay Maren’s phone.
The screen was cracked.
A message had been typed but never sent.
Everett read the unfinished words.
She knows the trust can only be changed if Noah is declared unfit or not legally recognized. Do not believe the test. The original result is hidden in the blue room beneath the
The sentence ended there.
May you like
From below came the scrape of a bolt being drawn.
Someone was locking the cellar door.
