Chapter 2 - THE LOCKED DRAWER
By breakfast, the message on the mirror had disappeared.
Emma returned to the corridor shortly after sunrise and found the glass polished until it shone. Not a trace of dust remained.
Mrs. Cole was arranging flowers in the entrance hall.
“Who cleans the upstairs mirrors?” Emma asked.
The housekeeper did not look up.
“I do.”
“Did you clean the west corridor this morning?”
Mrs. Cole adjusted a white rose.
“All mirrors are cleaned daily.”
“At what time?”
“Before the family wakes.”
Emma lowered her voice.
“Lily wrote something on one last night.”
Mrs. Cole’s fingers stopped.
“What did she write?”
“That someone watches her.”
The rose stem snapped in Mrs. Cole’s hand.
She placed the broken flower beneath the others.
“Children have vivid imaginations.”
“Lily was terrified.”
“Then you should avoid encouraging her fears.”
Mrs. Cole lifted the vase and walked away.
The exchange stayed with Emma throughout the morning.
She spent two hours with Lily in the glass conservatory overlooking the gardens. Rather than beginning with speech exercises, Emma placed sheets of paper and colored pencils on a low table.
Lily drew the house.
She included the fountains, the east tower, the greenhouse, and even the narrow chimney above the kitchen wing. Her attention to detail was extraordinary.
Then she drew four people standing in front of it.
Grant was tall and dressed in black.
Lily drew herself beside him.
A third figure wore blue. Emma recognized the wooden bird in its hand and realized Lily had drawn her.
The fourth figure stood in an upstairs window.
Its face had been scribbled out.
Emma pointed gently.
“Who is that?”
Lily placed the black pencil down.
She picked up a red pencil and drew a line from the figure’s hand to Lily’s neck.
Emma’s stomach tightened.
“Did someone hurt you?”
Lily looked toward the conservatory entrance.
Renata stood outside the glass doors.
The red pencil rolled from Lily’s fingers.
Renata entered carrying a tray of lemonade.
“I thought you might need refreshments.”
Emma turned the drawing facedown.
“That’s thoughtful.”
Renata placed the tray on the table.
Her eyes moved to the paper.
“What are you working on?”
“A landscape exercise.”
“How educational.”
She poured lemonade into two crystal glasses. One for Emma and one for herself.
Nothing for Lily.
“Lily has a medical appointment this afternoon,” Renata said. “You won’t be needed.”
“What kind of appointment?”
“A private one.”
“I was hired to coordinate her therapeutic care.”
“You were hired to keep her occupied.”
Emma did not touch the drink.
“Grant described my role differently.”
At the mention of his name, a small muscle moved in Renata’s jaw.
“My husband carries a great deal of guilt. It makes him overly generous with responsibilities that belong to the family.”
Lily reached beneath the table and touched Emma’s wrist.
Her fingers tapped twice, paused, then tapped three times.
Emma did not understand.
Renata seemed to notice.
“Lily,” she said, “go upstairs and change.”
The child remained seated.
“Now.”
Lily rose immediately.
As she passed Emma, she slipped something into Emma’s palm.
A tiny brass key.
Emma closed her fingers around it.
Renata watched Lily leave.
“She becomes attached quickly,” she said. “Do not mistake dependence for trust.”
“Is there a difference in this house?”
Renata smiled without warmth.
“You should be careful, Emma. Curiosity is rarely rewarded here.”
The medical appointment lasted three hours.
Grant was in the city. Eleanor Vale arrived shortly after Renata and Lily departed.
Emma observed her from the upper landing.
Eleanor moved through the house like its true owner, issuing instructions to the staff without raising her voice. She was in her late sixties, silver-haired and elegant, with a cane she appeared to use more as a symbol than a necessity.
When Mrs. Cole mentioned the new caregiver, Eleanor looked directly toward the landing.
“You must be Emma Lawson.”
Emma descended the stairs.
“Mrs. Vale.”
“Eleanor.”
Her handshake was cool.
“My granddaughter has endured too many professionals.”
“I’m not here to pressure her.”
“That is what they all say before they begin measuring her progress.”
Eleanor studied Emma’s face.
“Renata tells me you are already asking questions about Claire.”
“I asked about the event that preceded Lily’s silence.”
“Claire’s death was an accident.”
“I didn’t suggest otherwise.”
“No. You merely created space for the suggestion.”
Eleanor walked toward the drawing room.
Emma followed.
“Did Lily ever tell you about a woman in a mirror?”
Eleanor stopped.
Only for a moment.
Then she continued.
“Children use symbols to process grief.”
“That sounds like something a therapist would say.”
“We hired many.”
“Did any of them see Lily’s medical records from before the accident?”
Eleanor turned.
“You have been employed for less than a day. Do not confuse access with authority.”
She closed the drawing-room door between them.
Emma returned upstairs.
The brass key remained in her pocket.
She tried it first on Lily’s desk, then on a small jewelry box, then on the cabinet beneath the window. None of the locks matched.
While searching, she noticed scratches along the side of the white wardrobe.
The wardrobe had three drawers beneath its doors. The first contained folded sweaters. The second held winter clothes.
The third drawer would not open.
Emma knelt.
A nearly invisible keyhole was hidden beneath the decorative handle.
The brass key fit.
Inside the drawer lay a child’s red raincoat, a water-damaged photograph, and a silver voice recorder.
Emma lifted the photograph.
It showed Claire kneeling beside Lily on the deck of a yacht. Behind them stood Grant, Eleanor, and a dark-haired woman wearing oversized sunglasses.
The woman’s face had been deliberately scratched away.
Emma turned the photograph over.
Claire’s handwriting covered the back.
If anything happens to me, do not let them say Lily imagined it.
Emma picked up the recorder.
The battery indicator blinked weakly when she pressed the power button.
There was one saved file.
She held it to her ear.
Wind roared through the speaker.
Claire’s voice emerged, strained and breathless.
“Lily, stay in the cabin. Do not come out until I return.”
A door slammed.
Then another woman spoke.
“You should have signed the transfer.”
Claire answered, “I know what you did to Daniel.”
Static swallowed several seconds.
The second woman said, “You know nothing.”
Claire’s voice came closer.
“If Grant learns the trust was changed, you lose everything.”
A sharp impact followed.
Someone screamed.
The recording ended.
Emma replayed it twice.
The bedroom door clicked behind her.
Renata stood in the doorway.
May you like
Her gaze moved from the open drawer to the recorder in Emma’s hand.
“You were told,” she said quietly, “not to search this house.”
