Chapter 4 - The Unlocked Safe
Julian’s chest tightened, the mention of Clara’s name sending a cold shockwave through his veins. He gently handed Sophie over to Martha, who scooped the little girl into her arms with practiced tenderness.
"Take her to the car, Martha. Lock the doors and wait for me," Julian instructed, never taking his eyes off Beatrice.
Martha nodded quickly, her bruised face tight with anxiety as she hurried toward the glass exit doors, her boots clicking against the marble floor until the heavy glass swung shut behind them. The silence that followed was oppressive. Beatrice turned on her heel, walking deliberately toward the mahogany-paneled study at the end of the grand hallway. Julian followed closely behind her, his boots heavy and menacing.
The study was bathed in the dim, warm glow of a banker’s lamp sitting atop a massive cherry-wood desk. Leather-bound books lined the towering shelves, smelling faintly of aged paper and leather. Beatrice walked straight to the back of the room, her slender fingers tracing the ornate molding of the wall paneling beside the fireplace. With a subtle press of a hidden latch, a section of the wood panel slid open, revealing a heavy digital wall safe embedded in the brickwork behind it.
"Clara didn't vanish into thin air, Julian," Beatrice said, her voice dropping to a hushed, conspiratorial register as she began punching a six-digit code into the keypad. "She knew the truth about what happened the night Emily disappeared."
"Stop playing games, Beatrice. Open the safe," Julian demanded, stepping into the warm pool of light cast by the desk lamp.
With a heavy mechanical clunk, the safe door swung outward. Beatrice reached inside, pulling out a thick manila envelope tied with a frayed red ribbon. She didn't open it immediately; instead, she ran her thumb over the yellowed paper, her expression unreadable.
"You always thought Clara was unstable," Beatrice murmured, sliding the envelope across the polished mahogany desk toward Julian. "You thought her grief made her paranoid. But look at the date on these documents."
Julian’s hand hovered over the manila folder. His fingers trembled slightly as he untied the red ribbon, pulling out a stack of handwritten journals and glossy photographs. The top photo caught the harsh light of the lamp, revealing a startling image of the mansion's blueprints with red ink circling the exact basement door where Sophie had just been locked.
"These were printed three days before Emily went missing," Beatrice whispered, watching his reaction closely. "And look at who signed the architectural modification request."
May you like
Julian’s eyes scanned the signature at the bottom of the blueprint authorization form. The blood drained entirely from his face as he read the name clearly written in black ink: his own.
---
