Chapter 2 - THE SON IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
The next morning, the west hallway was locked.
Mr. Langley claimed the maintenance team had discovered water damage, but Emma saw no workers, no equipment, and no sign that repairs were being made.
She spent the morning preparing guest rooms for the engagement celebration.
William Sterling was expected home that afternoon after six weeks abroad. According to the staff, he had traveled to London and Zurich to finalize the merger of Sterling Medical Technologies with a European research company.
His fiancée had managed the mansion in his absence.
No one said Isabella’s name unless necessary.
While dusting the family library, Emma noticed a silver photograph frame on William’s desk.
The photograph showed William standing beside a nine-year-old boy near a sailboat. William wore a relaxed smile that Emma had not seen in any of the formal portraits downstairs. The boy had the same gray eyes and dark hair.
On the back of the frame, someone had written:
William and Ethan, summer at Rose Harbor.
Emma’s pulse quickened.
The boy in the photograph had the same eyes she had seen behind the wall.
A shadow crossed the doorway.
Emma quickly returned the frame to the desk.
A young woman in a dark blue staff dress stood watching her. She carried folded sheets against her chest.
“My name is Nora,” she said. “I work in the laundry.”
“Emma.”
“I know.”
Nora closed the library door behind her.
“You heard him last night, didn’t you?”
Emma did not answer immediately.
“Who is Ethan?”
Nora looked toward the hallway.
“Mr. Sterling’s son.”
“Why is he inside the wall?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew he was there.”
“I knew someone was there.”
Emma stepped closer.
“What happened to the previous housekeeper?”
Nora’s face tightened.
“Her name was Clara Voss. She began asking questions about the west wing. One morning, Isabella told us Clara had stolen jewelry and fled.”
“Did you believe her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Clara left her passport in the staff safe. She also left her coat, her phone charger, and every photograph of her daughter.”
A clock ticked loudly on the library mantel.
Emma lowered her voice.
“Did the police investigate?”
“Isabella said the matter was handled privately.”
“Was William here?”
“No. He was traveling.”
Emma looked again at the photograph of Ethan.
“Where does everyone think his son is?”
“In Maine. Isabella told the staff he had been sent to a private therapeutic school after suffering a breakdown.”
“When did he leave?”
“Five weeks ago.”
“And when did the crying begin?”
Nora stared at her.
“Five weeks ago.”
Footsteps approached outside.
Nora immediately moved toward the bookshelves and pretended to arrange the sheets.
Isabella entered.
Her ivory dress was simple but expensive, and she carried a tablet displaying the final seating plan for the celebration.
“Emma,” she said. “Why are you in this room?”
“I was assigned to dust the library.”
“By whom?”
“Mr. Langley.”
Isabella glanced at Nora.
“And you?”
“Fresh linens for the guest suite, ma’am.”
“Leave them and go.”
Nora obeyed without looking at Emma.
Isabella waited until the door closed.
Then she crossed to William’s desk and picked up the photograph.
“My future husband has a sentimental weakness for old memories.”
“Ethan resembles him.”
Isabella’s eyes lifted.
“You know his name.”
“It’s written on the photograph.”
“He is receiving treatment.”
“In Maine?”
“Yes.”
“Will he attend the engagement celebration?”
The photograph frame struck the desk with a sharp click.
“No.”
Emma held Isabella’s gaze.
“Does he know his father is coming home?”
A silence opened between them.
Isabella’s expression did not change, but the color left her fingers where they gripped the frame.
“You are very interested in a child you have never met.”
“I like children.”
“That can become dangerous in a house where they are not your concern.”
Isabella turned toward the door.
“After lunch, you will clean the east conservatory. You are no longer assigned to this floor.”
When she was gone, Emma noticed something on the carpet beneath the desk.
A small blue glass marble.
She picked it up.
A thin line of dried blood ran across its surface.
That afternoon, William Sterling arrived.
Staff members lined the entrance hall while reporters gathered beyond the gates.
He stepped from a black car in a tailored coat, looking tired despite the cameras. Isabella descended the stairs to greet him and kissed his cheek as photographers captured the moment through the open doors.
Emma watched from the edge of the hall.
William smiled at Isabella.
But his first words were not about the celebration.
“Has Ethan called?”
Isabella touched his arm.
“The school believes contact would disrupt his progress.”
“I’ve been away for six weeks.”
“I know.”
“I want to speak to my son tonight.”
For a fraction of a second, Isabella looked toward the west staircase.
Emma followed her gaze.
William noticed.
He turned toward Emma.
Their eyes met.
The blue marble slipped from Emma’s fingers and rolled across the marble floor.
It stopped against William’s shoe.
He bent down and picked it up.
His expression changed instantly.
“Where did you find this?”
Emma looked at Isabella.
Then she answered.
“In your library.”
William held the marble tightly.
“This belongs to Ethan.”
Isabella laughed softly.
“He must have left it before he went away.”
William studied the dried stain across the glass.
“This is blood.”
The entire staff became still.
Isabella’s smile did not move.
“It’s paint.”
William rubbed the mark with his thumb.
It did not come off.
From somewhere above them came three slow knocks.
William raised his head.
May you like
Emma saw Isabella’s face before she forced it back into calmness.
She was afraid.
