Chapter 12 - The Ledger in the Firelight
Eleanor paused, her flashlight wavering for a fraction of a second as her eyes dropped to the green book clutched tightly in Clara’s small hands. A dark, ugly smile twisted the corners of Eleanor’s lips, shattering the illusion of the elegant, weeping woman from the gallery banquet table once and for all.
“That old book is just paper and ink, Catherine,” Eleanor sneered, taking another measured step forward. “And paper burns so very well, just like the nursery did twelve years ago.”
“You killed them,” Clara said, stepping out from behind the granite slab before Catherine could stop her. Her face was pale, but her eyes burned with a fierce, quiet clarity that mirrored the artist standing beside her. “You locked the door, you took me out of the crib, and you pretended to be my mother so you could steal the Carlyle estate trust.”
Eleanor let out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed off the damp stone walls. “I didn't steal anything, Clara. I simply rescued you from a family of fools who cared more about their art collections than their children. I gave you a home, I gave you clothes, I taught you how to read.”
“You gave me a cage,” Clara whispered, her voice shaking with restrained rage.
Julian suddenly stepped out from the shadows behind Eleanor, the barrel of his revolver pressing firmly against the back of her neck. “Drop the weapon, Eleanor. The game is over.”
Eleanor froze, the smile instantly vanishing from her face as the cold steel touched her skin. But instead of panicking, a dangerous glint appeared in her eyes. With a sudden, lightning-fast movement, she spun around, firing her pistol blindly into the darkness.
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A deafening roar filled the cave as the bullet struck the rock wall inches from Julian’s head, showering them all in a blinding spray of stone sparks and smoke.
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