Chapter 3 - The Red Room
Richard took the stairs two at a time.
Maya was back in his arms. Ella followed behind him despite Victoria’s demand that she leave the house immediately.
“No one is leaving,” Richard said.
Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “You’re humiliating me in front of staff.”
“I’m trying to find out why my daughter is terrified.”
The old music room sat at the end of the west hall.
Its walls had once been warm ivory. After Caroline, Richard’s late wife, died, he stopped entering it. She had played piano there while pregnant with Maya. Her sheet music remained in the bench.
Now the door was painted deep crimson.
Richard stopped.
“Who painted this?”
Victoria crossed her arms. “I was redecorating.”
“You redecorated my dead wife’s music room without asking me?”
Victoria’s composure cracked. “Your house was frozen in grief. I was trying to make it livable.”
Maya whimpered and hid her face.
Richard tried the knob.
Locked.
He took the key ring from his pocket. The original key was missing.
His eyes lifted slowly to Victoria.
She stared back.
“I don’t know anything about your keys.”
Richard stepped away and called his head of security.
“Daniel. West hall. Now.”
Daniel Cross arrived within two minutes with a master set.
The door opened.
The first thing Richard saw was the piano.
The second was a small wooden chair facing the wall.
Beside it sat a digital kitchen timer.
Twenty-eight minutes remained on the display.
Richard’s stomach turned.
“What is this?”
Victoria’s voice sharpened. “A calm-down chair. Millions of parents use time-outs.”
“You put a two-year-old alone in a locked room?”
“I never locked her in.”
Ella spoke from the doorway. “Yes, you did.”
Victoria spun toward her. “You are fired.”
“No,” Richard said. “She isn’t.”
He walked farther into the room.
On the floor were three broken crayons, a child’s sock, and Maya’s stuffed rabbit.
“Bunny,” Maya whispered.
Richard picked it up.
The rabbit smelled faintly of furniture polish and something chemical.
Daniel was examining the wall.
“Sir.”
Richard looked over.
A tiny black lens sat near the ceiling molding.
A camera.
Richard’s pulse jumped.
“I didn’t authorize a camera in here.”
Daniel shook his head. “Neither did I.”
Victoria went pale.
Then, before anyone could stop her, she stepped toward the side table and reached for a small silver box connected to the wall.
Daniel caught her wrist.
“Don’t touch that.”
May you like
The box blinked once.
Then every light in the room went out.
