Chapter 12 - The Christmas Room
That night, Ethan could not sleep.
He wandered the mansion until he found a small room at the end of the upstairs hall.
The door was unlocked.
Inside stood a Christmas tree no taller than he was.
No lights.
No presents.
Just handmade ornaments.
A paper angel.
A red wooden star.
A photograph of Sarah at age eight missing both front teeth.
Margaret stood behind him.
"This was her room."
Ethan did not turn.
"You kept it?"
"I changed the furniture years ago, but every Christmas I put up her old tree."
"Why?"
Margaret's voice trembled.
"Because pretending I was angry was easier than admitting I missed her."
Ethan stared at the paper angel.
"She missed you too."
"Did she say that?"
"When she was mad."
Margaret gave a broken laugh.
Ethan finally looked at her.
"She would say, 'Your grandmother is the most stubborn woman in America.' Then she'd say I got it from you."
Margaret covered her eyes.
For the first time, Ethan touched her first.
He took her hand.
Neither of them said sorry.
There were some things too large for one word.
Downstairs, Noah's fever finally broke. Lily slept curled in a chair beside his bed, still wearing the clean pajamas Maria had found for her.
At midnight, Thomas came into Sarah's room carrying a laptop.
"We got into the trust records."
Margaret's face hardened.
"How bad?"
"Victor moved almost four million dollars through shell charities. Hope House was one of them."
Ethan stared.
"Four million?"
Thomas nodded.
"The money belonged to Sarah's trust and to a children's assistance fund."
"So he stole from kids."
"Yes."
Thomas opened another file.
"And there's something else. He paid Malcolm Pike seventy-five thousand dollars last year. Labeled consulting."
Ethan thought of the padlocked pantry.
"For what?"
Thomas shook his head.
"We don't know."
A loud crash came from downstairs.
Then Maria screamed.
Ethan ran.
The front hall window had shattered inward.
Snow blew across the marble floor.
An officer lay dazed near the door.
And the red notebook was gone from the table where Ruiz had left it for evidence pickup.
May you like
On the floor, written in melting snow, were four words.
GIVE ME THE KEY.
