Chapter 1 - six weeks before the engagement
Six weeks earlier, Vincent Moretti believed the worst thing his daughter was dealing with was grief.
He was wrong.
The mansion had been unusually quiet that Tuesday morning.
Rain traced narrow paths down the windows of the breakfast room while Lily sat at the long table arranging strawberries around the edge of her plate.
Vincent checked his watch.
"You need to eat more than strawberries."
Lily pushed one toward him.
"You eat one."
"I already ate."
"You didn't."
Vincent looked at Martha.
Martha hid a smile.
He picked up the strawberry.
Lily finally took a bite of toast.
For several minutes, everything felt normal.
That mattered to Vincent more than he admitted.
Normal had become expensive after Grace died.
Not expensive in money.
Money was the easiest thing in Vincent Moretti's life.
He could replace a damaged car before lunch, buy a company before dinner, and fly halfway around the world because Lily wanted to see a particular kind of butterfly.
But he could not buy normal.
He could not buy the sound of Grace humming in the kitchen.
He could not buy the mornings when Lily ran between them wearing mismatched socks.
He could not buy the first year after the accident, when his daughter woke every night asking why Mommy had not come home.
Three years had passed.
Lily remembered Grace in pieces now.
Her perfume.
Her laugh.
The blue silk scarf she wore in winter.
A song with no words.
Vincent feared those pieces would disappear.
That was one reason Grace's bedroom remained locked.
The other was simpler.
He still had not found the courage to decide what should happen to the things inside.
Vanessa entered the breakfast room at eight fifteen.
She looked flawless.
Blonde hair pinned back, cream dress, diamond earrings.
She bent and kissed Vincent.
Then she smiled at Lily.
"Good morning, sweetheart."
Lily's shoulders tightened.
It was so small that Vincent missed it.
Martha did not.
Vanessa sat opposite Lily.
"Are you excited about the engagement party?"
Lily stared at her toast.
"We've discussed this," Vanessa continued. "When someone asks you a question, you answer."
Vincent looked up.
"She doesn't have to answer immediately."
Vanessa smiled.
"Of course not. I'm only trying to help with her manners."
Lily whispered, "Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I'm excited."
Vanessa's smile softened.
"There. Perfect."
Vincent's phone rang.
He stood.
The Singapore office.
He hated taking calls at breakfast, but the acquisition they were closing had become unstable overnight.
He touched Lily's shoulder.
"Finish eating."
She caught his sleeve.
"Daddy?"
He turned.
For a moment she seemed about to say something.
Then Vanessa lifted her coffee cup.
Lily released him.
"Nothing."
Vincent kissed her forehead and walked out.
He did not see the way Vanessa watched Lily after he left.
Martha did.
She was clearing plates when Vanessa leaned across the table.
"You nearly ruined that."
Lily whispered, "I didn't say anything."
"You were going to."
"No."
Vanessa's voice stayed pleasant.
"Your father has enough problems. Do you want him to be sad again?"
Lily shook her head.
"Then we don't bother him with silly little things."
Martha placed a plate onto the cart harder than necessary.
Vanessa looked at her.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then perhaps you could give us privacy."
Martha met her eyes.
"I have work to do in this room."
Vanessa's smile disappeared.
For several seconds, neither woman moved.
Then Lily accidentally knocked her spoon onto the floor.
The sound broke the tension.
Martha picked it up.
When she straightened, Lily pressed something into her hand.
A tiny folded piece of paper.
Martha closed her fingers around it without looking.
An hour later, alone in the pantry, she opened it.
The handwriting was uneven.
Lily had learned to write sentences only recently.
The note contained six words.
SHE GOES IN MOMMY HALL AT NIGHT.
Martha read it twice.
Then a third time.
Grace's bedroom was at the end of a private corridor on the east side of the house.
Nobody had any reason to go there.
Martha folded the note and placed it in her apron pocket.
At noon she checked the lock.
No damage.
At one fifteen she checked the security log.
No entry.
At three, she asked the guard stationed near the east wing whether Vanessa had been seen there.
He shook his head.
Martha almost decided Lily had misunderstood.
Then she noticed something.
The security camera covering the east corridor had gone offline for exactly eleven minutes the previous night.
No error report.
No maintenance request.
Just eleven missing minutes.
Martha stared at the screen.
The mansion had thirty-eight cameras.
One had failed.
The one outside Grace Moretti's room.
At dinner that evening, Vanessa announced the engagement party would be moved forward by two weeks.
Vincent seemed surprised.
"So soon?"
"I don't want to wait."
She reached for his hand.
"Do you?"
He smiled.
"No."
Lily dropped her fork.
Vanessa looked at her.
Vincent did not notice.
Martha did.
And later that night, when the house became quiet, Martha stood in the dark at the entrance to the east corridor.
At twelve forty-two, she heard footsteps.
Soft.
Careful.
Coming toward her.
Martha stepped behind a curtain.
Vanessa appeared.
May you like
She was wearing black.
And in her hand was a ring of keys.
