Chapter 5 - The Man in the Hall
“Marcus?” Richard whispered.
Marcus Vale was Richard’s chief financial officer.
His oldest friend.
The man who had stood beside him at Caroline’s funeral.
On-screen, Marcus stepped into the red room and shut the door.
The footage had no sound.
Victoria pointed at the monitor. “See? Marcus was here. Ask him.”
Richard’s eyes never left the screen.
Maya backed away from Victoria.
Marcus crouched beside the child.
Then the video glitched.
Static.
When the picture returned, Maya was gone.
Marcus handed Victoria something small and metallic.
A key.
Then he left.
Richard called him.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
“Daniel,” Richard said, “find him.”
Daniel began tracking security gate records.
Victoria moved closer. “Richard, you’re letting paranoia destroy us.”
“Our daughter is afraid of you.”
“She is not our daughter.”
The words came out too fast.
Everyone in the room went still.
Victoria’s face drained.
Richard stood carefully so he would not wake Maya.
“What did you just say?”
Victoria swallowed. “I meant biologically. I love her like she’s mine.”
Ella looked away.
Richard’s jaw tightened.
Before he could answer, Daniel spoke.
“Sir, Marcus left through the south gate at 8:03. His car hasn’t returned.”
“Where did he go?”
“GPS has been disabled.”
Richard called one of his drivers.
Then his phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
DON’T TRUST THE FOOTAGE. ASK WHAT VICTORIA WANTED FROM YOUR DAUGHTER.
Richard stared at it.
Another message appeared.
CHECK MAYA’S BEDROOM. INSIDE THE WALL BEHIND THE BOOKCASE.
Richard handed the phone to Daniel.
“Trace it.”
They hurried upstairs.
Maya’s room looked untouched: white furniture, soft blue wallpaper, wooden animals on shelves. Caroline had chosen every detail before Maya was born.
Richard moved the bookcase.
Nothing.
Then Ella pointed to a faint rectangular seam in the wall.
Daniel pried away the panel.
Inside was a black pouch.
Richard opened it.
Three passports.
One in Victoria’s name.
One in Marcus Vale’s.
And one with Maya’s photograph under a different last name.
Richard stopped breathing.
May you like
The passport was real.
And the departure date handwritten on the envelope was tomorrow.
