Chapter 6 - THE MUSIC BOX
The music box was found in a storage unit registered to a company that
no longer existed. Daniel arranged for an attorney and a neutral witness
to be present when it was opened. Roman insisted on going himself, but
Elena asked to come too.
“I won’t spend another year hearing about my mother’s things from other
people,” she said.
The storage unit smelled of dust and damp cardboard. A small metal
cabinet stood against the back wall. Inside, wrapped in newspaper, was
the silver birdcage music box.
Elena held it with both hands.
“I thought it was gone.”
Roman turned the key. The little bird rose, rotated, and played a soft
melody. Elena closed her eyes.
“That’s the song,” she whispered. “The one I couldn’t finish.”
I watched her face. The melody was simple, but it carried a sadness that
seemed to fill the whole unit.
When the tune ended, a small panel beneath the base clicked open. Inside
was a brass key and a folded strip of paper.
Roman unfolded it.
The paper contained a list of account numbers and a handwritten note:
The original beneficiary records are beneath the west staircase. Do not
let Sloane destroy them.
Daniel looked at Roman.
“The west staircase at the mansion?”
Roman nodded slowly.
Elena looked at me. “That’s the staircase beside the old library.”
We returned to the mansion and searched the area with the estate
manager. Beneath a loose panel, Daniel found a narrow compartment.
Inside was a sealed packet of documents, including the original
assistance fund charter, a list of recipients, and records of
unauthorized withdrawals.
The documents showed that Sloane had diverted money from the fund for
years. He had also used Caleb to locate the music box and retrieve the
list before an independent audit could begin.
But the most important document was a letter from Roman’s mother to
Grace Turner.
Grace, you gave my daughter comfort when I could not be beside her. I
cannot repay that kindness. If your daughter ever needs help, make sure
she receives it without humiliation. No debt should be attached to
compassion.
I pressed the letter to my chest.
My mother had never mentioned the DeLucas because she had not wanted
gratitude to become an obligation. She had helped Elena because a
frightened child needed someone. That was all.
Roman read the letter and looked away.
“My mother knew how to give without making people feel small,” he said.
“Then why did the envelopes stop after four?” I asked.
Daniel answered. “The fund account was frozen last month after an
unexplained withdrawal. The next payment may have been intercepted.”
A sound came from the corridor.
A staff member appeared, pale and breathless.
“Mr. DeLuca, someone is at the front gate. He says his name is Victor
Sloane.”
Roman closed the packet.
“Let him in.”
Elena caught his sleeve.
“Not like this.”
Roman looked at her.
“Then how?”
“Let him see what he failed to destroy.”
May you like
She turned toward the piano.
“And let him hear the song.”
