Chapter 1 - THE PICTURE
I had laughed.
“Planning ahead?”
“And why do we need window seats?”
“For the kids.”
We had no children then.
I had laughed.
“Planning ahead?”
Isabelle had smiled at me as though she knew something I didn't.
That memory hit me so hard that, for a second, I forgot the three girls standing in front of me.
Olivia pointed toward the far wall.
“The picture,” she repeated.
I followed her finger.
There were dozens of photographs in the library.
Family photographs.
Business photographs.
Photographs of properties I owned.
Photographs of men I trusted once.
But Olivia wasn't pointing at any of those.
She was pointing toward a framed photograph of Isabelle.
It had been taken eleven years earlier.
Before our wedding.
Before children.
Before the organization had become as powerful as it was.
Isabelle stood on the beach with her hair blowing across her face.
I stood beside her.
She was holding something in her hands.
I had never noticed it before.
I walked closer.
“What am I looking for?”
Olivia climbed onto the leather chair.
She pointed at the bottom corner.
“There.”
I leaned down.
A tiny reflection appeared in the glass.
At first, I thought it was glare.
Then I saw it.
A silver key.
Hanging from Isabelle's fingers.
I stared.
“That?”
Sophie nodded.
“Mommy had it.”
“When?”
“Before.”
“Before what?”
Sophie looked at Grace.
Grace didn't answer for her.
She simply crouched down.
Sophie swallowed.
“Before the bad day.”
My chest tightened.
“What bad day?”
The girls exchanged a look.
Then Nora spoke.
It was barely audible.
“The car.”
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
I crouched in front of her.
“What car?”
Nora's eyes filled with tears.
“The black car.”
I had spent fourteen months trying to make my daughters talk.
Now that they were speaking, I wasn't sure I was ready to hear what they knew.
“What did you see?”
Grace touched my arm.
I looked at her.
She shook her head.
“Not like this.”
“What?”
“They've just started talking again.”
“I need to know.”
“You need to let them tell you.”
I stared at her.
Nobody talked to me that way.
Nobody.
But Grace didn't flinch.
She looked at me like I was a father first and a dangerous man second.
So I stepped back.
“All right.”
Olivia looked relieved.
Then she walked toward the shelves.
She stopped at the bottom row.
There was an old wooden box hidden behind several books.
She pulled it out.
My heart stopped.
I knew that box.
It belonged to Isabelle.
She had kept letters inside it.
Old photographs.
Receipts.
Little things that meant something only to her.
I hadn't opened it since she died.
Olivia placed it on the desk.
“Mommy said not to open until Daddy came home early.”
The words struck me like a punch.
“Your mother said that?”
She nodded.
“When?”
“Before the bad day.”
I opened the box.
Inside was a folded piece of paper.
My name was written across it.
Dominic.
Not Daddy.
Not my love.
Just Dominic.
I unfolded it.
There were only four words.
Trust the girl who listens.
I looked up.
Grace was standing beside my daughters.
Her face had gone completely pale.
“Who wrote this?”
Grace didn't answer.
“Grace.”
She looked at the letter.
Then at me.
“I don't know.”
I didn't believe her.
Not because she looked guilty.
Because she looked heartbroken.
That was different.
I turned the paper over.
Nothing.
Then Olivia whispered, “There's another one.”
She pointed inside the box.
Beneath the velvet lining.
I lifted it.
A small metal key fell into my palm.
The same silver key from the photograph.
I stared at it.
“What does this open?”
Nora answered.
“The room Mommy told us never to enter.”
I looked toward the hallway.
There was only one room in the house that had been locked for fourteen months.
The old wine cellar beneath the library.
I had assumed Isabelle had kept wine there.
Now I wasn't so sure.
I closed my hand around the key.
“Stay here.”
Grace stepped forward.
“No.”
I turned.
She met my eyes.
“If you're going down there, I'm coming.”
“You're staff.”
“I know.”
“This isn't your business.”
Grace's voice dropped.
“It became my business the day your daughters started hiding in my room because they were afraid someone in this house was watching them.”
My blood went cold.
“Someone was watching them?”
Grace hesitated.
Olivia suddenly grabbed my sleeve.
“Daddy.”
It was the first time she had ever called me that since Isabelle died.
I looked down.
Her little face was trembling.
“Don't go alone.”
Then Sophie whispered behind her:
“He knows you found the key.”
A sound came from somewhere upstairs.
Three slow footsteps.
Then silence.
I looked at Grace.
She looked at me.
May you like
Someone else was in the house.
And whoever it was already knew we had found Isabelle's secret.
