Chapter 7 - The Ghost from the Attic
"You think you've won, Victoria," Julianna whispered, her voice dropping to a raspy, unhinged pitch as she stared up from the hardwood floor. "You think locking Arthur away and changing the locks solves everything. But you forgot about the attic."
Victoria’s posture stiffened microscopically. The color drained from her cheeks for a split second before she recovered her composure. "The attic was sealed by court order twenty years ago when your father passed away. There is nothing up there except dust and forgotten memories."
"Is that what you told the probate court?" Julianna let out a manic, broken laugh, pulling herself up by clutching the edge of the cream-colored sofa. Her royal blue dress was now stained with dust and tears. "My father didn't just leave a trust, Victoria. He left a diary. And it’s sitting in the wall safe behind the old portrait of the founder—the safe only I know the combination to."
Marcus frowned, stepping closer to Victoria. "What is she talking about? What's in the attic?"
Victoria didn't answer immediately. She looked at Eleanor, who was still slumped in the armchair, breathing shallowly with her eyes closed. The older woman's silence was deafening.
"It's nothing," Victoria lied, though her voice lacked its previous ironclad conviction. "Julianna is delusional. She's trying to buy time."
"Am I?" Julianna sneered, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She turned her wild gaze onto Marcus. "Ask her, Marcus! Ask your precious sister-in-law why my father left this estate to a minor in the first place. Ask her whose child Lily really is!"
The living room went dead silent. Lily stirred against Marcus’s side, looking up with big, confused eyes. "Daddy? Who am I?"
Marcus felt a cold chill run down his spine. He looked down at his daughter, then snapped his head back toward Victoria. "What is she implying? Lily is my niece—my brother's daughter from his first marriage. That's what you told me when I married into this family."
Victoria closed her eyes, letting out a long, shuddering breath. The mask of absolute control had finally slipped. "Marcus... it's complicated."
"Complicated?" Marcus’s voice rose, vibrating with a dangerous intensity. "Did you lie to me about Lily's identity? Who is her mother?"
Before Victoria could speak, Eleanor shifted in her chair. The matriarch opened her eyes, her gaze fixed on the ceiling overhead, toward the heavy, locked door that led to the third-floor attic.
"The diary isn't the only thing up there," Eleanor rasped, her voice dry and ancient. "The surveillance tapes from the night of the fire are up there too. The fire that killed your real parents, Marcus."
Marcus staggered backward, releasing Lily's hand as the room spun around him. "What fire?"
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Julianna smiled, a wicked, triumphant expression spreading across her tear-stained face. "The fire that Victoria started to steal this estate in the first place."
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