Chapter 8 - the photograph with two dates
Dr. Krell called his visit a wellness evaluation.
Rebecca called it trespassing.
Judith called it necessary.
They met in the morning room while Walter remained outside with Lily. Rebecca had insisted that the baby stay away from the doctor.
Krell was in his late sixties, with silver-framed glasses and carefully manicured hands. He spoke gently enough to make every question feel rehearsed.
“Have you experienced confusion?”
“No.”
“Unusual fears?”
“No.”
“Do you believe anyone in the family intends to harm you?”
Rebecca looked at Judith.
“Yes.”
Krell made a note.
Vanessa hid a smile.
“Have you heard voices?”
“I heard a recording.”
“From where?”
“An old cassette.”
“What did it say?”
“You already know.”
His pen stopped.
Judith intervened.
“Rebecca is referring to childhood materials that may not exist.”
Krell’s expression recovered.
“Trauma can produce reconstructed memories.”
“So can drugs,” Rebecca said.
He placed the pen down.
“Your mother is worried about your ability to care for Lily.”
“My mother wants control of Lily’s trust.”
Judith rose.
“This interview is finished.”
Krell remained seated.
“No, Judith. It has only become useful.”
The room went still.
Rebecca studied him.
“You’re afraid of her too.”
Krell removed his glasses.
“Fear is a rational response to certain people.”
Judith stepped closer.
“Be careful.”
“You should have said that twenty-six years ago.”
Vanessa moved between them.
“What is happening?”
Krell looked at Rebecca.
“Noah came to me before his accident.”
Rebecca’s heart lurched.
“He knew you altered my records?”
“He knew enough to ask dangerous questions.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Did my mother?”
“I cannot answer that.”
“That sounds like yes.”
Krell opened his medical bag and removed a sealed envelope.
“I kept one document.”
Judith crossed the room.
Walter entered before she reached it.
He stood in the doorway holding Lily.
“No closer,” he said.
Judith stopped.
Walter had not raised his voice, but something in it had changed.
Krell handed the envelope to Rebecca.
Inside was a photograph of two little girls sitting beside the west nursery window.
The younger one was Rebecca.
The older child had dark curls and a small crescent-shaped mark near her eyebrow.
Two dates had been written beneath the picture.
Rebecca’s date was twenty-six years earlier.
The second date was only eighteen years earlier.
Rebecca looked at Krell.
“These children were photographed eight years apart.”
“Yes.”
“Then this cannot be the same room.”
“It is.”
“Who is the second girl?”
Krell looked toward Judith.
“She was brought here after Rebecca stopped responding to the treatment.”
Rebecca’s hands went cold.
“I was the first?”
“No,” he said. “You were the first one who survived it.”
Vanessa backed away.
“What treatment?”
Judith turned on Krell.
“You were paid for discretion.”
“I was paid to falsify records. Discretion was the excuse I used to live with myself.”
“Who was the child?” Rebecca demanded.
Krell’s mouth tightened.
“I never knew her real name.”
“What did they call her?”
“Lily.”
Rebecca looked down at her sleeping newborn.
The room seemed to tilt.
Judith had insisted on the name during Rebecca’s pregnancy. She had said it belonged to an ancestor.
Rebecca had chosen it because Noah liked it.
Krell pointed at the photograph.
“The older girl disappeared two days after this picture was taken.”
“Disappeared where?”
“No one told me.”
Judith reached into her handbag.
Walter moved quickly, placing himself between her and Rebecca.
It was the second time Rebecca had seen him move without hesitation.
Judith removed a phone rather than a weapon.
She pressed one button.
The security alarm began screaming.
Metal shutters dropped over the windows.
Krell looked toward the locked door.
Judith’s voice remained calm.
“This house has always protected the family.”
Walter handed Lily to Rebecca.
“No,” he said. “It has protected you.”
May you like
A mechanical lock engaged behind them.
Then smoke began seeping beneath the morning room door.
