Chapter 4 - The Blue Door

I carried Noah myself and told Emma to stay in the library.

She grabbed my sleeve.

“Don’t leave me.”

That nearly broke me.

“Then you’re coming with me.”

We moved down the hallway together.

The mansion was silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and the old clock near the stairs.

The blue door sat beneath the east staircase.

Closed.

Locked.

I tried the handle.

Nothing.

“Maria?” I called.

No answer.

Vanessa appeared behind us.

“What are you doing?”

I turned.

“Where’s the key?”

Her face changed.

“Adrian.”

“The key.”

“You’re scaring Emma.”

“I’m asking one question.”

She took a breath. “Maria left.”

“Emma says she didn’t.”

“She’s six.”

I stepped closer.

Vanessa backed up.

That was the first time I realized she was afraid of me finding the truth, not of me.

I checked above the doorframe where the spare used to be.

Gone.

I went to the garage, grabbed a flat bar, and returned.

Vanessa grabbed my arm.

“Don’t.”

I looked at her hand.

She let go.

One hard pull snapped the old latch.

The door opened.

The room was empty.

For half a second I felt foolish.

Then Emma said, “Daddy.”

She pointed to the floor.

A bracelet lay near the shelves.

Silver, with a small saint charm.

Maria wore it every day.

I picked it up.

Vanessa said, “She probably dropped it earlier.”

I noticed a second object under the wine rack.

A phone.

Cracked screen.

Maria’s.

I powered it on.

Twenty-seven missed calls.

Five to me.

Three to emergency services.

The most recent draft message had never sent.

ADRIAN, VANESSA HAS BEEN MAKING EMMA CARE FOR THE BABY. SHE THREATENED HER. I HAVE VIDEO. IF YOU GET THIS—

The message ended there.

My blood went cold.

I turned toward Vanessa.

“Where is Maria?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Then a faint sound came from behind the storage wall.

Three slow knocks.

Pause.

Three more.

Emma whispered, “That’s her.”

I pushed aside the wine rack.

Behind it was a narrow maintenance panel I had forgotten existed.

I tore it open.

Maria was inside the service corridor, pale and shaking, one hand pressed to her mouth.

When she saw me, she started crying.

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“Don’t let Vanessa take the children.”

And behind me, I heard the front door slam.