CHAPTER 3: The Broken Seal
"Mr. Sterling..." Clara’s voice cracked from the doorway. "Look at the floor."
Gabriel snapped his flashlight downward. Leading from the bedside toward a narrow ventilation passage at the back of the brick wall were faint, fresh shoe prints dusted in powdered lime. Beside them were faint scratch marks on the masonry—the marks of fingernails desperate for purchase.
"Arthur was here this morning before dawn," Clara stammered, covering her mouth. "I saw him carrying a heavy duffel bag toward the south stables, but I thought it was just gardening tools. Then I heard a faint tapping from down here when I did the laundry..."
Gabriel closed the notebook and slipped it into his robe pocket. The betrayal cut through him with surgical precision. Arthur had been more than a butler; he was the man who taught Gabriel how to fish, how to tie a tie, and had stood beside him at Eleanor's empty memorial service.
"Clara, take Lily to your quarters in the guest wing. Lock the deadbolt from the inside. Do not answer for anyone except me. If you hear sirens, stay put."
"Daddy, don't leave me!" Lily pleaded, her big hazel eyes wide with genuine terror.
Gabriel knelt before his daughter, pressing his forehead against hers. "Lily, look at me. Your daddy is going to fix everything. You remember what I told you about courage?"
"It’s... it’s being scared, but doing the right thing anyway," she sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.
"That's my brave girl. Go with Clara. I'm going to bring the truth to light."
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Clara took Lily’s small hand, nodding firmly with an unexpected resolve in her posture. As they hurried back up the stairs, Gabriel turned toward the south corridor that connected the cellar directly to the estate's private carriage house and stables. The darkness seemed to breathe around him.
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