Chapter 7 - The Locked Nursery
Ethan dragged Claire behind a heavy dresser as a second shot tore through the bedroom door.
Evelyn crawled toward the bathroom.
"There's a service passage," she said.
"Of course there is," Claire muttered.
The old estates always had secrets in the walls.
Ethan shoved the dresser against the door and followed Evelyn through a narrow panel behind the bathroom mirror.
They moved single file through darkness.
Claire's ribs screamed every time she breathed.
Behind them, wood splintered.
"Who is shooting at us?" Ethan whispered.
"I don't know," Evelyn said.
"That's becoming a very convenient answer."
They reached another panel and stepped into a dusty nursery.
Claire stopped.
The room was frozen in time.
Small bed. Yellow curtains. Shelves of children's books.
And dozens of photographs of Emma.
Age one. Age three. Age five.
In almost every picture, Mara was missing.
"Where is her mother?" Claire asked.
Evelyn sank onto a chair.
"Dead."
Ethan went still.
"When?"
"Five years ago. Car crash in Maine."
"And nobody told me?"
"Richard made sure no one would."
Ethan slammed his fist into the wall.
"Why?"
Evelyn looked at him.
"Because Emma is not only your daughter. She is the sole beneficiary of Mara's grandfather's land holdings. Land your father needed for the Bennett hydro project."
Claire understood.
"So Richard couldn't control the land if Mara or Emma had a claim."
"Exactly."
"He hid his own granddaughter for money?"
"He told himself he was protecting the family."
Ethan laughed once, bitter and broken.
"That's what monsters always call it."
Footsteps entered the corridor outside.
Evelyn opened a cabinet and handed Ethan an old revolver.
"Your father kept it loaded."
Claire stared at her.
"You knew someone might come?"
Evelyn looked away.
"I knew eventually truth would."
A shadow crossed under the nursery door.
Ethan raised the gun.
The knob turned.
The door opened.
Deputy Shaw stepped inside with his hands raised.
"Don't shoot."
Ethan lowered the weapon slightly.
"What are you doing here?"
Shaw glanced behind him.
"Your security chief called me. Someone cut the estate cameras ten minutes ago."
Claire frowned.
"Then how did you know we were in this room?"
Shaw didn't answer.
His gaze dropped to the revolver.
Then Claire saw something dark on his cuff.
Fresh gunpowder residue.
She whispered, "Ethan..."
May you like
Shaw reached for his holster.
