Chapter 2 - The Portrait Behind the Wall
Maren read the message until the letters seemed to detach from the screen.
BECAUSE I TAUGHT HIM THE PLAN.
The unknown woman had claimed she wanted to save her.
Yet she had also taught Reed how to stage Maren’s death.
The contradiction felt like a trap closing from both directions.
Maren typed three questions, deleted them, then typed another.
WHO ARE YOU?
The reply did not come.
A second knock sounded.
This time, it was Lila Moreno, the youngest member of the household staff. She entered carrying a garment bag and kept her gaze lowered.
“Mr. Halston asked me to help you dress.”
Lila was twenty-four, quiet, and careful. She had started working at the mansion six months before Maren’s accident. Unlike the others, she never spoke to Celeste unless spoken to first.
Maren had once caught her crying in the laundry room.
When asked what was wrong, Lila said she had burned her hand on an iron.
There had been no burn.
“Close the door,” Maren said.
Lila did.
“Lock it.”
The young woman looked up sharply.
“Mrs. Halston…”
“My name is Maren.”
Lila swallowed and turned the lock.
Maren motioned toward the bedside table.
“Open the top drawer.”
Inside were several silk scarves, a silver hairbrush, and a small amber medication bottle.
Lila picked up the bottle.
“What is this?”
“My allergy medication.”
“The emergency one?”
“No. The pills Reed gives me every evening.”
Lila’s face changed.
Maren noticed.
“You recognize them.”
“I shouldn’t say anything.”
“Then don’t say anything. Nod if you have seen that bottle somewhere else.”
Lila hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Where?”
Silence.
“Lila, they are planning to kill me today.”
The bottle slipped in her hand.
Maren watched terror move across her face.
Not disbelief.
Recognition.
“You knew,” Maren said.
“No.”
“You suspected.”
Lila looked toward the locked door.
“Mrs. Celeste asked me to throw away a bag from Dr. Kline’s office last week. There were empty bottles inside. One had the same label.”
“What else was in the bag?”
“Used syringes. Documents. A hospital bracelet.”
Maren’s heart tightened.
“Whose name was on it?”
“I only saw the first name.”
“What was it?”
Lila’s voice fell to a whisper.
“Evelyn.”
The name meant nothing to Maren.
Or perhaps it did.
She thought of the recording hidden behind Edmund Vale’s portrait. At the end, after Reed and Celeste discussed the seven-minute window, there had been a sound in the background.
A woman coughing.
Then Reed said, “She still thinks Evelyn died in the fire.”
Maren had assumed Evelyn was a former employee.
Now she was not so certain.
“Where did you take the bag?”
“The furnace room.”
“Did you burn it?”
“I was going to. Then I heard Mr. Halston coming, so I hid it behind the old coal cabinet.”
“Is it still there?”
“I don’t know.”
Maren reached for her purse and removed a small key.
“Go to the west gallery. Behind the portrait of Edmund Vale, there is an opening in the wall. Place this inside.”
“What does it open?”
“I don’t know.”
Lila stared at the key.
“Then why put it there?”
“Because if I do not survive dinner, someone else will come looking for it.”
Lila went pale.
“I can’t be part of this.”
“You already are.”
The words were harsh, but Maren had no time for kindness.
Lila’s eyes filled.
“I have a younger brother,” she said. “Celeste paid for his surgery. She keeps the bills. She said if I ever left without permission, the hospital would come after my mother.”
Maren’s anger shifted.
It did not disappear.
It simply found a new target.
“How much does your family owe?”
“Almost two hundred thousand dollars.”
“Not anymore.”
Lila blinked.
“What?”
“There is a foundation account under Vale Meridian. I will clear it.”
“You can’t access your accounts.”
“Reed thinks I can’t.”
Maren opened the black phone and entered a sequence of numbers. The old device displayed a secure banking portal.
Most of her visible assets had been frozen under a guardianship request filed by Reed.
But her father had hidden reserves inside international disaster-relief funds. The money could only be accessed through physical authentication devices stored across several Vale properties.
The black phone was one of them.
Maren transferred the exact amount to the hospital.
Lila stared at the confirmation.
“What do you want from me?”
“The truth.”
Maren pointed to the champagne dress hanging inside the garment bag.
“Help me wear that.”
Lila unzipped it.
The gown was elegant, sleeveless, and cut to fall smoothly over Maren’s legs while she remained seated. Celeste had selected it for the meeting with the attorneys.
A costume for a compliant heiress.
As Lila helped her dress, Maren asked, “Did Celeste give you instructions for dinner?”
“She told me to serve you from a separate tray.”
“What was on it?”
“Soup. Wine. A dessert.”
“Anything else?”
“A silver bell.”
Maren frowned.
“A bell?”
“She said you might become distressed and ring for help. She told me not to enter the room unless Mr. Halston called.”
The seven-minute window.
Reed would prevent the staff from responding.
Then the emergency call would be delayed long enough to guarantee the result.
“Who else is in the mansion?”
“Mr. Reed. Mrs. Celeste. Dr. Kline arrived through the service entrance. Two attorneys. Three security guards.”
“Whose security?”
“Mr. Reed’s.”
Maren looked toward the hidden black phone.
“And Vale Meridian’s attorneys?”
“They canceled.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Did they give a reason?”
“No. Mrs. Celeste only smiled.”
Lila fastened the back of the dress.
In the mirror, Maren appeared composed.
No one would have guessed that beneath the satin, strapped around her thigh, was a miniature recorder.
No one would have guessed that the wheelchair’s left armrest contained a sharpened ceramic blade.
And no one would have guessed that Maren had spent the previous three nights relearning how to move her toes.
The doctors said her recovery had stalled.
They were wrong.
Her recovery had been suppressed.
Every evening, Reed gave her a pill.
Every morning, her legs felt heavier.
Two days after she secretly stopped taking the medication, sensation returned below her knees.
She still could not stand safely.
But the paralysis Reed depended upon was no longer absolute.
Lila stepped back.
“You look beautiful.”
“I look like someone attending her own funeral.”
“Please don’t say that.”
Maren met her eyes in the mirror.
“Go to the furnace room. Find the bag. Hide it somewhere Reed cannot reach.”
“Where?”
“Inside the old chapel.”
“The chapel is locked.”
Maren handed her a second key.
“My father never trusted churches with only one entrance.”
Lila took it.
As she turned toward the door, Maren said, “If Celeste asks where you have been, tell her I spilled perfume on the dress.”
“What if she doesn’t believe me?”
“She won’t. But she will believe you are frightened enough to lie badly.”
Lila unlocked the door.
Then stopped.
“There’s something else.”
Maren waited.
“Last night, I heard Dr. Kline and Mrs. Celeste arguing.”
“About what?”
“About you.”
“What did they say?”
Lila glanced toward the hallway.
“Dr. Kline said, ‘She is not the only daughter who survived.’”
Before Maren could answer, a shadow crossed beneath the door.
Someone was standing outside.
The handle turned.
Lila jumped back.
Reed entered, smiling.
His eyes moved from Lila’s frightened face to the open medication drawer.
Then to the hidden phone beneath Maren’s hand.
May you like
The smile vanished.
“What are you holding?”
