Chapter 6
We ran through the rain.
Arthur ahead.
Me behind him.
Agent Larkin shouting into his radio.
Security spread across the grounds toward the old greenhouse.
My shoes sank into wet grass.
Branches slapped my arms.
The west carriage house appeared through the trees, dark and half forgotten.
Behind it stood the greenhouse.
Glass panels streaked with moss.
Iron frame rusted.
Door hanging slightly open.
Arthur stopped so suddenly I nearly hit him.
A child’s sob came from inside.
Oliver.
Arthur lunged forward, but Agent Larkin grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
“My son is in there.”
“And someone may be with him.”
The agent signaled two officers around the side.
I stood frozen, every part of me straining toward that small crying sound.
Then Oliver screamed.
“Daddy!”
Arthur broke free.
No one could stop him.
He ran inside.
I followed.
The greenhouse smelled like wet leaves and old soil.
Broken pots covered the floor.
Oliver sat tied to a metal bench with a scarf around his wrists.
A strip of tape covered his mouth.
His eyes were huge with terror.
Arthur reached him first.
He tore the tape away gently.
Oliver sobbed.
“Daddy!”
“I’m here. I’m here.”
Arthur’s hands shook so badly he struggled with the knot.
I knelt beside him and untied it.
Oliver threw himself into Arthur’s arms.
Then a voice came from behind us.
“How touching.”
Elena stepped out from behind a wall of dead vines.
She held a small black device in one hand.
A phone.
Her dress was muddy at the hem.
Her face was calm.
Too calm.
Arthur turned with Oliver in his arms.
“Elena.”
Agent Larkin raised his weapon.
“Drop the phone.”
Elena smiled.
“I wouldn’t.”
Arthur tightened his hold on Oliver.
“What did you do?”
“I arranged insurance.”
Larkin moved slightly.
Elena lifted the phone.
“If I don’t send a message every ten minutes, certain files go public. Files that will bury Arthur. Files that will make sure Oliver’s mother looks less saintly than you all pretend.”
Arthur went still.
My pulse hammered.
“Elena,” he said. “Don’t.”
I looked at him.
“What files?”
Elena’s eyes shone.
“Oh, Maria. Did you really think Isabelle Vance was innocent? She knew about Northline. She signed documents. She was going to expose everyone only when it benefited her son.”
Arthur’s face twisted.
“Stop.”
“She planned to take Oliver and the trust and leave Arthur before she died.”
“Stop.”
Elena laughed.
“You never told the nanny that, did you? Saint Isabelle had her own escape plan.”
Oliver clung to his father, confused and shaking.
I stood slowly.
“Even if that is true, it doesn’t excuse you hurting a child.”
Elena’s smile vanished.
“You know nothing about this family.”
“I know enough.”
“No. You know grief. You made it your whole personality.”
The words hit hard.
But I stayed standing.
“You killed my sister.”
The greenhouse went silent.
Arthur stared at Elena.
Agent Larkin did not move.
Elena tilted her head.
“Careful.”
“No. I’m done being careful.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Lucia was warned.”
My breath caught.
“She should have taken the money and disappeared.”
Arthur whispered, “Elena.”
“She kept digging. Your father panicked. Crane arranged the driver. I cleaned the accounts afterward.”
The world stopped.
There it was.
Not suspicion.
Not a shadow.
Truth.
My knees weakened, but rage held me upright.
“You admit it?”
Elena looked at the phone in her hand.
Then smiled.
“You’re recording, of course.”
Agent Larkin said, “Yes.”
She shrugged.
“Then record this too. Arthur’s father ordered it. Crane paid for it. I covered it. And Arthur benefited from all of it.”
Arthur looked like he had been struck.
“I didn’t know.”
“No,” Elena said. “You never know. That’s your gift. You inherit clean hands because everyone else gets dirty for you.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
For a second, I hated him too.
Not the way I hated Elena.
But for the blindness.
For the rich man’s luxury of not knowing.
Then Oliver whimpered, “Daddy, I want to go home.”
Arthur opened his eyes.
Everything changed again.
He handed Oliver to me.
I took him carefully.
He clung to my neck.
Arthur stepped toward Elena.
“You are finished.”
Elena lifted the phone higher.
“If I fall, I take your family name with me.”
Arthur’s voice was low.
“Then let it fall.”
Her face flickered.
“What?”
“Release everything. Burn the name. I don’t care.”
Elena stared at him.
For the first time, she looked afraid.
Arthur continued.
“The only thing I care about is my son. And you will never touch him again.”
Agent Larkin moved.
Elena tried to run.
She slipped on wet stone.
The phone flew from her hand.
An officer grabbed her before she reached the door.
She screamed as they cuffed her.
“You think this ends with me? Crane has copies! Your father’s friends have copies!”
Agent Larkin took the phone.
“Good. We’ll take those too.”
Elena’s eyes found me.
“This won’t bring Lucia back.”
The words cut deep.
I stepped closer, holding Oliver.
“No,” I said. “But it will stop you from taking anyone else.”
They led her out into the rain.
Arthur stood in the greenhouse, soaked and shaking.
Oliver reached for him.
Arthur took his son back and held him so tightly the boy squeaked.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again and again. “I’m so sorry.”
I turned away because his grief was too private.
And because mine had just become real in a way I had chased for four years.
Lucia had been murdered.
My sister had been silenced.
And now the woman who helped do it was in handcuffs.
I thought truth would feel like relief.
May you like
Instead, it felt like a door opening over a dark stairwell.
And somewhere below, more secrets waited.
