Chapter 3 - THE HOUSE WITH THE LOCKED ROOM
Rowan arrived at her mother’s townhouse the next morning without calling first.
Miriam opened the door wearing a dark blue robe. Her silver hair was uncombed, and her expression shifted from surprise to irritation when she saw the sketchbook beneath Rowan’s arm.
“You should be working,” Miriam said.
“I am.”
“Then why are you here?”
Rowan stepped inside.
The house smelled of lavender polish and burnt toast. Nothing had changed since her childhood. The same landscape paintings hung in the hallway. The same brass clock ticked above the fireplace. Elara’s school photograph remained on the mantel.
“I need to ask you something,” Rowan said.
Miriam turned toward the kitchen. “Questions are all you ever bring into this house.”
“Who visited you three days ago?”
“No one.”
“There were two cups.”
“I sometimes use two cups.”
“Why?”
“Because I am old enough to drink twice.”
Rowan placed the sketchbook on the table and opened it to the hidden symbol.
Miriam stopped moving.
The reaction lasted less than a second, but Rowan saw it.
“You recognize this.”
“No.”
“You looked frightened.”
“I looked tired.”
“Dad wrote the same symbol beside Elara’s name.”
Miriam gripped the edge of a chair.
“Your father wrote many things when he was unwell.”
“He was not unwell.”
“He spent years chasing a tragedy that had already happened.”
“He believed someone set the fire.”
“He needed someone to blame.”
“Did Elara know Conrad Vale?”
Miriam’s hand slipped from the chair.
Rowan stepped closer.
“Mother.”
“You should leave.”
“Answer me.”
Miriam’s voice hardened. “Do not bring the Vales into this house.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only one you are getting.”
Rowan looked toward the staircase.
At the top of it was Elara’s locked bedroom.
Since the fire, Miriam had never permitted anyone to enter.
Rowan moved toward the stairs.
Her mother caught her wrist.
“Do not.”
“There may be something in that room.”
“There is nothing but dust and a dead girl’s belongings.”
“Then why are you afraid of it?”
Miriam released her.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then a floorboard creaked upstairs.
Rowan looked up.
The sound came from behind Elara’s door.
Someone was in the locked room.
Rowan ran.
Miriam shouted after her, but Rowan reached the landing first. The door was closed. A thin line of light showed beneath it.
She tried the handle.
Locked.
“Open the door!” Rowan demanded.
The light disappeared.
Footsteps moved toward the window.
Rowan struck the door with her shoulder. Once. Twice. On the third attempt, the old frame cracked.
She entered just in time to see the curtains billowing around an open window.
The room was empty.
A ladder leaned against the garden wall outside.
Someone had escaped.
Rowan rushed to the window. A figure in a gray coat crossed the neighboring yard and disappeared through an alley.
On the desk stood an open metal box.
Inside were newspaper clippings, photographs, and letters that had been hidden for years.
One photograph showed Elara at the Bellweather Hall two weeks before the fire.
She was standing beside a much younger Conrad Vale.
On Elara’s other side was a teenage girl Rowan recognized immediately.
Audrey.
She could not have been more than ten years old.
On the back, someone had written:
Elara promised to keep her safe.
Beneath the photograph lay a sealed envelope addressed to Rowan.
The handwriting belonged to her sister.
Miriam appeared in the doorway.
When she saw the envelope, her face collapsed.
“You were never supposed to find that,” she said.
Rowan broke the seal.
Inside was a single page.
May you like
The letter began with a warning.
Rowan, if they tell you I died in the fire, do not believe them.
