Chapter 3 - THE ROOM OF PAPER STARS
The attic nursery smelled of cedar, dust, and the faint lavender polish
Rosa had always used on the wooden furniture.
Tristan stood in the doorway for a long moment. A small bed remained
beneath the sloped ceiling. A painted moon hung over it. Paper stars
dangled from a mobile that had stopped turning years ago.
Mabel held his hand.
“Grandma made those,” she said.
“I know.”
“She said the stars remember.”
Tristan swallowed. “She was right.”
Alina moved toward the old wardrobe. “The box should be here.”
She found it on the top shelf, beneath a folded quilt. It was decorated
with gold stars. The brass key fit a tiny lock on the side.
Inside were dozens of paper stars, a photograph of Isabelle holding baby
Mabel, and a sealed envelope bearing Tristan’s name.
He stared at the handwriting.
It was Rosa’s.
He unfolded the letter.
Mr. Crowne,
If you are reading this, then I was unable to tell you the truth while I
was alive. I am sorry. I tried to protect Isabelle, and later I tried to
protect Mabel. I should have trusted you sooner.
The night Isabelle died, I saw Serena Cross enter her room. Serena was
not yet your fiancée. She said she had come to bring flowers. I later
found a vial in the bathroom bin and a note in Isabelle’s bedside
drawer. The doctor said Isabelle’s heart had failed. I did not believe
him.
I kept a copy of the hospital medication log. I also kept a recording of
a conversation I was never meant to hear. I hid both in the place where
the Christmas stars sleep.
The letter ended with a warning.
Do not accuse anyone until you have the original records. The person who
helped Serena is still close to you.
Tristan read the final sentence twice.
“Who helped her?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t know.”
Alina examined the box. Beneath the paper stars was a false bottom. She
lifted it and found a memory card wrapped in waxed cloth, along with
several folded pages.
Mabel pointed at a photograph.
“That’s Mama.”
Tristan picked it up. Isabelle stood in the nursery doorway, smiling,
with Rosa beside her. Serena appeared in the background, partially
turned away from the camera.
On the back, Rosa had written a date: three days before Isabelle died.
Tristan’s face grew cold.
“Get this to the forensic team,” he told Daniel. “Make copies. No one
handles the originals without gloves.”
Alina touched the letter. “Why didn’t my mother tell you?”
“Maybe she was afraid.”
“She was never afraid of Serena.”
“Maybe she was afraid of the person standing behind Serena.”
A soft sound came from the hallway.
Daniel turned sharply. A shadow moved past the open door.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
He hurried outside. Tristan followed. The hallway was empty except for a
small silver tray on the floor. A folded note rested on it.
Tristan picked it up.
The message contained only seven words:
Rosa should have taken her secret to the grave.
He looked toward the stairwell.
May you like
Someone in the mansion knew they had found the letter.
And that person was close enough to leave a note outside the nursery.
