Chapter 2 - THE PHOTOGRAPH HIDDEN INSIDE THE HEM
"Don't open it!"
Victoria Ashford's scream echoed through the ballroom.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Daniel Carter stood beside me, one hand hovering near the yellow stitching on my dress. Behind him, Victoria's shattered champagne glass glittered across the marble floor.
"Why?" Daniel asked quietly.
Victoria swallowed.
"Because that dress belongs to the hotel. Whatever is hidden inside it could be company property."
I looked at her.
"My mother gave me this dress."
"Then perhaps your mother should have explained where she got it."
Her words struck harder than the champagne she had spilled.
Daniel turned toward her.
"Victoria, another word about Emma's mother, and you'll leave this ballroom."
She fell silent.
I looked down at the faded black fabric.
My mother had worn the dress when she worked in the hotel's laundry department. As a little girl, I used to complain about the bright yellow thread she used to repair it.
After she disappeared, I kept it.
Years later, when I started working at the Carter Grand, I had the dress altered to fit me. It matched the required black uniform, and my supervisor allowed me to wear it.
I had never touched those stitches.
Until now.
"Emma," Daniel said, "I won't open anything without your permission."
His words surprised me.
Most powerful men I'd encountered in that hotel never asked permission from people like me.
I took the small sewing scissors from the emergency repair kit on a nearby service cart.
"My mother left this for me," I whispered. "If there's something inside, I want to be the one who finds it."
I carefully cut the first yellow stitch.
Then the second.
By the fifth, my hands were shaking.
Something stiff shifted inside the folded lining.
I reached into the opening and pulled out a small square wrapped in waxed paper.
Inside were three things.
A faded photograph.
A narrow strip of paper.
And a tiny brass key.
Daniel drew a sharp breath when he saw the photograph.
I unfolded it.
A younger Daniel Carter stood beside my mother in the hotel's loading courtyard. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
My mother was smiling.
And standing between them were two children.
A little girl with dark braids.
A small boy wearing a blue knitted hat.
I recognized them immediately.
"That's me," I whispered.
My finger moved toward the little boy.
"And that's Noah."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"Claire brought you both to the employee family luncheon. Noah was four. He refused to take off that ridiculous blue hat, even though it was August."
I stared at him.
"You remember my brother?"
"He insisted I hold him so he could see the delivery trucks."
The memory struck something deep inside me.
For years, I'd remembered only a man's strong arms lifting Noah into the air, and my mother laughing beside them.
I had forgotten the man's face.
Until now.
"You knew us," I said.
Daniel nodded.
"Your mother trusted me."
The words turned bitter in my mouth.
"Then why did she disappear?"
He couldn't answer.
I turned the photograph over.
Four words were written in my mother's familiar handwriting.
VICTORIA SAW THE DOOR.
Beneath them was a time.
9:14 P.M.
Victoria gripped the back of a chair.
Daniel stared at the writing.
"What door?" I asked.
Nobody answered.
The narrow strip of paper contained a series of faded numbers and letters.
H-3.
Beneath them, in smaller handwriting, were three more words.
KEEP BOTH COPIES.
The brass key had the same H-3 marking.
Daniel reached toward it, then withdrew his hand.
"Sixteen years ago," he said slowly, "there was a fire at a Carter-owned residential building on Hawthorne Street."
I remembered hearing about that fire.
Four people had died.
Several families had lost their homes.
But nobody had ever connected it to my mother.
"Claire was helping me investigate what happened," Daniel continued. "She believed someone had deliberately concealed safety violations."
Victoria suddenly moved toward the ballroom exit.
"Victoria."
Daniel's voice stopped her.
She looked over her shoulder.
"Was Claire referring to the Hawthorne fire?"
Victoria's lips trembled.
"I did what I thought was necessary."
"That wasn't my question."
Before she could answer, a young security supervisor approached.
"Mr. Carter, there's a problem."
Daniel turned.
"What kind?"
The supervisor glanced uneasily at me.
"It's about Miss Bennett's brother."
My heart dropped.
"Noah?"
"Mr. Raymond Carter requested that he come to the executive offices. Noah was told there was a problem with his employment records."
Raymond Carter.
Daniel's older brother.
The man who controlled the hotel's finances and had practically raised Daniel after their father died.
"Why would Raymond want Noah?" Daniel asked.
The supervisor hesitated.
"Sir, he specifically instructed us not to notify you."
I was already moving.
Daniel followed me through the ballroom doors and into the private elevator.
On the executive floor, we hurried past a row of glass-walled offices.
At the end of the hallway, I stopped.
Through the window of Raymond's office, I saw my twenty-year-old brother sitting across from him.
Noah looked frightened.
Raymond was speaking calmly, pointing toward a document on the desk.
Then he placed a photograph in front of my brother.
Even from the hallway, I recognized the person in it.
Me.
The photograph showed me leaving our apartment building that very morning.
May you like
Someone had been watching us.
And Raymond Carter was holding the proof.
