Chapter 2 - FOUR YEARS OF DARKNESS
The doctors arrived within twenty minutes. They carried Elena out of the hidden passage while Clara walked beside the stretcher, refusing to release her mother's hand. Vincent followed them to the private hospital, leaving Adrian, his head of security, in charge of the estate.
Dr. Shah examined Elena and ordered blood tests, scans, and treatment for severe dehydration and malnutrition. Her ankle showed signs of long-term restraint. She was weak, but conscious.
“Will she survive?” Vincent asked.
“She is fragile, but she's receiving care,” the doctor replied. “The next twenty-four hours are important.”
When Elena woke briefly, she searched the room.
“Clara?”
“She is here,” Vincent said. “She's sleeping.”
Elena's fingers searched for his. He took her hand.
“Who did this?”
Her eyes moved toward the door. “Helena arranged it. Marco made sure nobody found me.”
“Why?”
“Your father left something. A trust. He told me it would belong to Clara when she turned eighteen, but it had a condition. The family businesses had to be placed under independent oversight. Helena wanted control before that happened.”
Vincent remembered the trust. His father had created it shortly before his death, but the original documents had supposedly been destroyed in a fire.
“Where are they?”
“I hid the key. Inside the music box.”
“The one in Clara's nursery?”
Elena nodded, then closed her eyes as exhaustion overcame her.
Adrian called before dawn. The hidden room was larger than it appeared from the portrait. It contained a bed, a wash basin, food storage, and a ventilation system connected to an old service shaft. Renovation invoices showed that a company owned by Marco had built it.
The security system had recorded the memorial room. Only Marco and Helena had access.
“Find the original invoices,” Vincent ordered. “And preserve every recording for the investigators.”
Adrian hesitated. “There's more. The car from the night Elena supposedly died had false plates. The remains were never positively identified through DNA. The funeral was arranged before the forensic report was complete.”
Vincent closed his eyes. He remembered the rain, the wreckage, Helena's hand on his shoulder, and Marco telling him there was nothing more to investigate. He had believed them because grief made believing easier than questioning.
Clara stirred against his chest.
“Daddy?”
“I'm here.”
“Is Mommy going to stay?”
Vincent looked through the hospital window. “I'm going to do everything I can to make sure she does.”
Clara thought about it. “I knew she was there.”
“How?”
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“The candle went out. Then I heard someone cough. Mommy used to cough when she laughed too much.”
He held her closer. A four-year-old had heard what a house full of adults had refused to hear.
