Chapter 2 - WHAT LUCIANO SAW
The darkness lasted seven seconds.
Sadie counted every one.
On the first, Luciano grabbed her wrist.
On the second, Arnulfo said his son's name.
On the third, something struck the hallway wall.
By the seventh, emergency lights flooded the room in a dim amber glow.
Victoria was gone.
“Lock the house,” Arnulfo said.
His voice was frighteningly calm.
One of the guards moved instantly.
Sadie stayed on her knees beside Luciano.
The boy's fingers were still wrapped around her wrist so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
Arnulfo crouched across from him.
“What did he say?”
Sadie looked at Luciano.
His eyes moved toward the doorway.
Then back to her.
She signed slowly.
YOUR DAD WANTS TO KNOW.
Luciano swallowed.
His hands rose.
BAD LADY PUT MARIA UNDER RED DOOR.
Sadie felt the blood drain from her face.
Arnulfo watched her.
“Tell me.”
“She says—”
Sadie corrected herself.
“He says Victoria put Maria under the red door.”
Arnulfo's jaw tightened.
But Luciano wasn't finished.
MARIA NOT SLEEPING.
Sadie frowned.
Earlier, the boy had signed Maria sleeping.
Now he shook his head hard.
MARIA PRETEND SLEEP.
“Pretend?” Arnulfo repeated when Sadie translated.
Luciano nodded.
Then signed:
BAD LADY HIT HER.
A silence settled over the room.
Arnulfo looked toward the hall where Victoria had disappeared.
Sadie expected rage.
Instead, something worse happened.
Arnulfo reached toward Luciano.
His son flinched.
Not from Sadie.
From him.
Arnulfo's hand stopped in midair.
The hurt that crossed his face lasted less than a second.
But Sadie saw it.
“Why is he afraid of me?”
Luciano stared at the floor.
Sadie almost told Arnulfo not to push.
Then she remembered the photograph.
The newborn.
The unknown woman.
MY MOM.
She signed to Luciano.
DAD SAFE?
The boy hesitated.
Then:
DAD DOESN'T KNOW.
Arnulfo exhaled.
“What don't I know?”
Before Sadie could answer, one of the guards returned.
“Sir. Ms. Hale is in the conservatory.”
Arnulfo stood.
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Keep her there.”
The guard hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
He handed Arnulfo a small brass key.
“We found this on the floor outside Luciano's room.”
Sadie recognized the red enamel painted around its circular head.
Arnulfo looked at the key.
Then at Luciano.
The boy recoiled.
RED DOOR KEY.
Sadie translated.
Arnulfo's expression hardened.
They returned downstairs.
Victoria sat in the glass conservatory with her hands folded in her lap.
Moonlight silvered the desert beyond the windows.
She looked composed.
Except she had removed her cream heels.
Arnulfo placed the brass key on the table.
Victoria's eyes dropped to it.
“So?”
“It's from Luciano's hallway.”
“I've never seen it.”
Arnulfo sat across from her.
“Maria's scarf was under that door.”
“I don't know anything about Maria's scarf.”
“You knew there was a space behind the wine cellar.”
“I guessed.”
“You lied about understanding Luciano.”
“I misspoke.”
“You shut down cameras.”
“I did not.”
Victoria's voice finally sharpened.
“And if you're going to accuse me of attacking that nanny because of some frightened five-year-old's gestures—”
Arnulfo stood so fast the chair scraped backward.
Sadie instinctively stepped between Luciano and the argument.
Victoria noticed.
Something bitter appeared in her expression.
“There,” she said. “That's exactly the problem.”
Arnulfo stared at her.
“What problem?”
“Everyone sees a frightened child and assumes the woman standing closest to him must be a monster.”
For the first time, Victoria didn't sound cruel.
She sounded exhausted.
“You think I wanted any of this?” she asked. “You think I wanted to spend five years competing with a dead woman no one will even name?”
Sadie's attention sharpened.
“Who?”
Victoria looked at her.
Then laughed once.
“You really don't know.”
Arnulfo's face changed.
“Victoria.”
She looked back at him.
“You never told her?”
“Told me what?” Sadie asked.
Victoria leaned against the table.
“That woman in the photograph has a name.”
Arnulfo said nothing.
Victoria's eyes filled with something that looked almost like pity.
“Evelyn Cross.”
Arnulfo's shoulders went rigid.
Sadie looked between them.
“You know her.”
Arnulfo answered quietly.
“Yes.”
“Who was she?”
He looked at Luciano.
Then at the photograph still in Sadie's hand.
“She worked for me.”
Victoria smiled without warmth.
“Oh, that's a careful way to say it.”
Arnulfo's eyes snapped toward her.
“Enough.”
“No. You've spent all night interrogating me. Maybe the waitress deserves to know why your son has a photograph of Evelyn holding him at the hospital.”
Sadie looked down at the picture.
Maria held the newborn.
Evelyn stood beside her.
Arnulfo looked like a man trying to hold a door shut against twenty years of weather.
“Evelyn and I were together,” he said.
Victoria blinked.
Even she hadn't expected him to say it aloud.
“How long?” Sadie asked.
“Almost three years.”
“And then?”
“She left.”
Victoria muttered, “Convenient.”
Arnulfo ignored her.
“Five months later, I was told Luciano's mother had died during childbirth.”
Sadie stared at him.
“Who told you?”
Arnulfo's answer was immediate.
“Maria.”
Everyone became still.
Even Luciano.
Sadie looked at the old photograph again.
Maria beside the hospital bed.
Maria holding the baby.
Maria telling Arnulfo the mother was dead.
And six weeks ago, Maria recording herself beside the red door saying she had found records.
The story had changed.
Maria was no longer simply the missing nanny who knew too much.
She had helped create the original lie.
Luciano tugged Sadie's sleeve.
He pointed at the picture.
Then signed carefully.
MARIA SAID SORRY.
Sadie translated.
Arnulfo closed his eyes.
“Sorry for what?”
Luciano's fingers moved again.
SHE TOOK ME FROM MOM.
Victoria went pale.
Arnulfo stopped breathing.
Sadie felt the photograph trembling between her fingers.
“You said Evelyn died.”
“That is what I was told.”
Luciano shook his head.
Hard.
Then he crawled from behind the coats and crossed to his toy chest.
He dug beneath stuffed animals until he found a faded green jacket far too large for him.
A woman's jacket.
Arnulfo stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
Luciano reached inside the pocket.
He pulled out a silver bracelet.
Arnulfo took one look at it and stumbled backward.
Sadie caught the engraving before his fingers closed around it.
E.C.
“Evelyn's,” he whispered.
Victoria stood.
“That proves nothing.”
But Luciano was already signing.
MOM GAVE ME.
Arnulfo looked at his son.
“When?”
Luciano held up four fingers.
Then corrected himself and held up three.
Sadie understood.
“Three days ago.”
Arnulfo's head turned slowly toward Victoria.
Victoria's expression collapsed.
Not guilt.
Fear.
Real fear.
“Arnulfo,” she said, “before you decide what that means, you need to understand something.”
He held up the bracelet.
“My son says his dead mother gave him this three days ago.”
“I know.”
The room went silent.
Arnulfo took one step toward her.
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
“I know Evelyn is alive.”
Sadie stared at her.
Arnulfo's voice became almost inaudible.
“Where is she?”
Victoria looked toward Luciano.
Then at the red key lying between them.
“I was trying to keep her from taking your son.”
May you like
And somewhere below them, deep behind the wine cellar wall, something heavy slammed once against the other side of the red door.
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