Chapter 3 - Room Nineteen
The old hotel stood near the river, its windows boarded and its stone entrance stained by years of rain. Alexander brought six guards. Lena brought the brass key and the photograph.
“You can wait in the car,” he said.
“I’ve waited fourteen years.”
He didn’t argue again.
The lobby smelled of wet plaster and dust. Marcus swept the room with a flashlight while Alexander checked the stairwell. The elevator was dead. They climbed to the second floor, where the corridor ended at a narrow door marked 19.
The key turned.
Inside was a small suite untouched by the fire. A piano stood against the wall. A dance barre ran beneath a cracked mirror. On the floor lay a pair of worn satin slippers.
Lena dropped to her knees.
She knew those slippers. Her mother had stitched a tiny silver star into the left heel because Lena used to mix up her shoes before competitions.
“She was here,” Lena whispered.
On the piano sat a cassette recorder and a folded note. Lena pressed PLAY.
A woman’s voice filled the room.
“My sweet Lena. If you’re hearing this, then someone has finally found the courage to bring you here.”
Lena covered her mouth.
“Your father did not know everything. Alexander’s father did not know everything either. The ledger is not the only proof. There are names hidden in the music.”
The recording crackled.
“Do not trust the person who says they rescued me. And do not trust the man who wears the silver ring.”
Alexander looked down at his hand.
He wore a silver signet ring.
Lena turned slowly toward him.
His face had gone rigid. “My father gave me this ring when I was sixteen.”
“Your mother said not to trust the man who wears it.”
“She may have meant my father.”
“She said the man.”
A floorboard creaked outside.
Marcus raised his weapon. “Movement.”
The lights snapped off.
A figure rushed through the doorway. Lena heard a struggle, a grunt, then the crash of the piano bench. Alexander shoved her behind the instrument.
“Stay down!”
A flashlight beam swept the room. Someone grabbed Lena’s wrist.
She struck backward with her elbow, twisted free, and ran toward the corridor. A gloved hand caught her hair. She screamed.
Alexander slammed the attacker into the wall. Marcus dragged the man down and ripped off his mask.
Lena stared at the face.
It was one of the Blake estate’s own guards.
Alexander looked at the man’s uniform. “Who sent you?”
The guard spat blood onto the floor. “You did, boss.”
May you like
Alexander went still.
The guard smiled. “You told me to make sure she never heard the tape.”
