Chapter 2 - The Room That Was Never Supposed to ExistThe explosion came from behind the locked doors of the eastern servants’ wing.
Morgues in three countries.
Private clinics under false names.
Shelters, train stations, border crossings, abandoned apartments, coastal towns, and hospitals where unidentified women had arrived without documents.
He had hired investigators in London, Paris, Prague, Montreal, and Buenos Aires.
He had offered a two-million-dollar reward.
Nothing.
Evelyn Blackwood had disappeared on a rainy October evening without her purse, passport, or car.
The police eventually told Adrian the sentence he hated most.
“Sometimes people simply don’t want to be found.”
He never believed them.
Evelyn would never have abandoned him without saying goodbye.
That conviction was the only thing keeping him alive.
On the fourth anniversary of her disappearance, Adrian returned unexpectedly to Blackwood Manor, the enormous Hudson Valley estate he had inherited from his grandfather.
He rarely stayed there anymore.
Too many memories.
Too many rooms where he could still hear Evelyn laughing.
His cousin, Miranda Vale, had been managing the estate while Adrian traveled for business and continued his increasingly desperate search.
“You should have called,” Miranda said when he walked into the foyer.
She descended the staircase wearing cream silk and a smile that somehow managed to look annoyed.
“I live here,” Adrian replied.
Miranda laughed lightly.
“Of course.”
Adrian handed his coat to a young footman.
That was when he noticed the woman carrying a silver tea tray across the far end of the foyer.
Gray servant’s dress.
Hair hidden beneath a plain scarf.
Eyes lowered.
She walked strangely, favoring her left leg.
Adrian barely noticed her until the tray slipped.
Silver struck marble.
Porcelain shattered.
Tea exploded across the floor.
The woman immediately dropped to her knees.
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
The entire foyer disappeared.
The staircase.
The servants.
Miranda.
Everything.
Only that voice remained.
He knew it.
He had heard it whisper beside him in darkness.
He had heard it laughing during thunderstorms.
He had heard it say I love you on the morning his life was destroyed.
Slowly, Adrian turned.
The servant was gathering broken porcelain with trembling fingers.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
She froze.
Miranda’s expression changed.
Only for half a second.
But Adrian saw it.
Fear.
The servant kept her head lowered.
Adrian crossed the foyer.
“Look at me.”
Her shoulders began shaking.
“Adrian,” Miranda interrupted sharply. “She’s new. She’s frightened enough already.”
He ignored her.
He crouched.
The servant slowly lifted her face.
Adrian’s heart stopped.
She was thinner.
Her cheeks were hollow.
A pale scar crossed her right eyebrow.
Her once-luminous brown eyes looked terrified and exhausted.
But there was no mistake.
“Evelyn?”
The broken cup fell from her hand.
Adrian reached for her.
She recoiled so violently that she struck the wall.
“No!”
Every servant in the foyer went silent.
Adrian pulled back immediately.
“It’s me.”
Evelyn stared at him as though she were trying to remember whether he was real.
Then she whispered something that nearly destroyed him.
“You came back.”
Adrian’s eyes filled.
“My God.”
He looked at Miranda.
“What is this?”
Miranda recovered quickly.
“I can explain.”
“You told me this woman was named Elise.”
Miranda swallowed.
“She told us that was her name.”
Adrian turned back to Evelyn.
Her sleeve had slipped toward her elbow.
There were bruises around her wrist.
Finger-shaped bruises.
His expression hardened.
“Who did that?”
Evelyn looked at Miranda.
That single glance answered him.
Adrian stood.
Miranda backed away.
“Adrian, listen to me.”
“How long?”
“What?”
His voice became frighteningly quiet.
“How long has she been here?”
Nobody answered.
Adrian looked at the staff.
“Someone speak.”
An elderly groundskeeper lowered his eyes.
A maid began crying.
Finally Evelyn whispered, “Four years.”
Adrian stared at her.
“No.”
She nodded.
His face drained of color.
“Where?”
Evelyn pointed toward the eastern corridor.
“The old servants’ wing.”
Adrian’s stomach turned.
That wing had supposedly been sealed after a burst pipe three winters ago.
Before that, Miranda had claimed it was being renovated.
Before that—
Adrian suddenly remembered something.
During the first weeks after Evelyn disappeared, police had searched Blackwood Manor.
But Miranda had told investigators the eastern wing was structurally unsafe after storm damage.
Nobody had searched beyond the locked fire doors.
Adrian looked toward Miranda.
She was already moving.
Not toward him.
Toward the front door.
“Stop her.”
Two security guards froze.
Miranda shouted, “Don’t listen to him! He’s distraught!”
Adrian’s voice thundered through the foyer.
“LOCK THE ESTATE.”
The guards obeyed.
The front doors slammed shut.
Miranda spun around.
“This is insane.”
Adrian pulled out his phone.
“Call the police,” she snapped sarcastically. “Tell them your supposedly missing wife has been living here as an employee. See how that sounds.”
“I’m not calling local police.”
Her confidence flickered.
Adrian dialed.
“Federal investigator Daniel Ross,” he said when the call connected. “Come to Blackwood Manor immediately. Bring the team.”
Miranda went pale.
Evelyn slowly rose from the floor.
Adrian turned toward her.
“Why didn’t you run?”
Her lips trembled.
She glanced toward the eastern hallway.
“Because she told me what would happen if I did.”
“To you?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“To you.”
Adrian went still.
Miranda suddenly lunged toward a side table.
Her hand disappeared beneath it.
Evelyn screamed.
“Adrian!”
Miranda pulled out a small black remote.
She pressed the button.
Somewhere inside Blackwood Manor, a massive explosion shook the walls.
Glass shattered.
People screamed.
Smoke rolled from the eastern corridor.
May you like
And Evelyn whispered the words that made Adrian run toward the fire instead of away from it.
“The proof is in that room.”
Related Stories
