Chapter 3 - The Voice Behind the Wall
The melody was one Lydia used to play when she wanted Ethan to follow her without alerting Celeste. Three rising notes, two falling notes, then a pause.
Ethan stood in the dark bedroom listening to the impossible music.
Valerie whispered, “Is that a recording?”
“No.”
The violin rested in its open case across the room.
The sound came from inside the wall.
Ethan used his phone light to search the paneling. Behind the bookcase he found a narrow brass plate shaped like a bird. The key marked 214 slid into it perfectly. When he turned it, the bookcase moved forward on hidden rails.
A passage opened.
Cold air drifted out carrying the smell of dust, machine oil, and roses.
They entered. The corridor descended between old stone walls and newer electrical cables. Small speakers had been placed every few yards. The violin music stopped when they reached a steel door.
On it was painted the number 214.
Ethan unlocked the door.
The room beyond had once been a communications center. Shelves held reel-to-reel tapes, paper files, surveillance photographs, and maps of the Ashford estate. A desk faced a wall covered in portraits of the family.
At the center was a photograph of Lydia.
Red string connected her picture to Leon Cole, Mara, Celeste, and several names Ethan did not recognize. One name had been circled again and again.
Lucian Cross.
Valerie touched the initials beneath the name. “L.C.”
Ethan shook his head. “The pendant may not stand for Lydia Cole.”
A tape machine clicked on.
Lydia’s voice filled the room.
“Ethan, if you are hearing this, then Leon failed to keep Valerie hidden.”
Ethan gripped the desk until his hands hurt.
The recording continued.
“Mother will tell you I was unstable. She will tell you Leon manipulated me. She will say the Cross Foundation was a charity. None of that is true. The foundation identified children with rare blood markers and placed them into selected families. Some were heirs. Some were substitutes. Some were leverage.”
Valerie sat down hard.
“My pregnancy was not an accident,” Lydia said. “Neither was the father’s disappearance. Valerie is my daughter.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Valerie made a sound between a sob and a gasp.
Lydia was her mother.
The tape hissed.
“I cannot tell you who her father is. Not yet. If the Cross network learns she survived, they will use her claim against every Ashford heir. Leon has agreed to raise her under another identity. I will stage my death and draw the network away.”
Ethan struck the stop button.
The sudden silence was violent.
Valerie stared at him. “Play the rest.”
“She said she staged her death.”
“Play it.”
He did.
“If I do not return within one year, assume Celeste chose the family over me. Do not trust the police. Do not trust the trustees. Trust the person who remembers the bell beneath the lake.”
The tape ended.
Valerie wiped her face with both hands. “She left me.”
“She tried to protect you.”
“You do not know that.”
Ethan had no answer.
A red light blinked on the desk. One of the old monitors came alive, showing grainy footage from the estate’s front hall.
Celeste stood below the staircase speaking to a man Ethan recognized as Victor Dane, the family attorney. Their voices came through a hidden microphone.
“The girl opened 214,” Victor said.
Celeste looked toward the camera as if she knew they were watching.
“Then Ethan has heard Lydia’s confession.”
“What do we do?”
“We move the archive before dawn.”
“And the girl?”
Celeste’s expression hardened.
“She cannot leave the estate.”
Ethan pulled Valerie to her feet. “We are leaving now.”
The steel door slammed shut behind them.
The lock turned from the outside.
Valerie tested it. “We are trapped.”
Ethan searched the room for another exit. On the map, a blue line ran from Room 214 to the greenhouse and then to the lake. He moved the desk and found a floor hatch.
Below it, a ladder descended into darkness.
They climbed down just as smoke began pouring through the vents.
The tunnel was narrow and partly flooded. Behind them, something exploded in Room 214. Heat chased them through the passage.
Valerie stumbled, and Ethan caught her. “Keep moving.”
The tunnel opened beneath the greenhouse. They emerged among wet ferns and shattered planting tables. Rain hammered the glass roof.
A man waited beside the door.
Victor Dane.
He held no weapon. He looked frightened.
“Celeste believes I am here to stop you,” he said. “I am actually here to give you this.”
He handed Ethan a sealed envelope marked with Lydia’s handwriting.
“You knew she was alive?” Ethan asked.
“I knew she survived the cliff. I did not know where she went.”
“Why help us now?”
Victor looked at Valerie.
“Because Leon Cole called me three days ago.”
Valerie went still. “My father is dead.”
“No,” Victor said. “He is dying. And he said the woman you call Mara is not your stepmother.”
Lightning flashed across the greenhouse.
Victor’s shadow stretched across the floor.
“He said Mara is your grandmother.”
May you like
A rifle shot broke the glass above his head.
Victor fell before he could say anything else.
