Chapter 2 - Shadows on the Staircase
The rhythmic tapping from the upper landing froze the entire foyer into absolute silence. Victoria’s triumphant smile faltered instantly, her gaze darting upward with a flicker of genuine panic. Morel stood up slowly from his crouch beside Sophie, his jaw tightening as he stared into the shadows where the grand staircase dissolved into darkness.
"Mother?" Morel called out, his voice laced with disbelief and a sudden, sharp edge of caution.
No one answered. The tapping stopped as abruptly as it had begun, leaving behind an oppressive stillness that felt heavier than the marble pillars supporting the ceiling. Sophie scrambled backward on her knees, clutching her bandaged arm instinctively against her chest. The white gauze was already stained with a faint circle of fresh crimson where the stitches beneath had strained against her sudden movement.
"She shouldn't be out of bed," Victoria hissed, recovering her composure with a sharp intake of breath. She stepped toward the stairs, her red dress rustling against the banister. "Arthur, tell this incompetent girl to clean up this wreckage before the staff sees it. Your mother’s fragile health cannot handle this kind of disruption."
Arthur Morel did not look at Victoria. His eyes remained fixed on the middle landing where a single, old-fashioned shawl hung loosely over the wooden railing. It was his mother's shawl—the exact one she had been wearing the night she supposedly suffered her debilitating stroke. A cold sweat broke out along the back of Arthur’s neck. He remembered signing the medical transfer forms himself. He remembered the specialized hospital bed installed in the east wing.
"Sophie," Arthur said softly, extending a hand down to help the kneeling maid to her feet. "Look at me."
Sophie hesitated, her tear-filled eyes darting between Arthur and Victoria. The power dynamic in the room shifted subtly as Arthur’s strong fingers closed around Sophie’s trembling wrist, hoisting her upward despite a sharp gasp of pain from her injured arm.
"She didn't catch it on the garage door, Mr. Morel," Sophie whispered, her voice trembling but steadying with a sudden surge of desperate courage. "Your mother was never in the garage."
Victoria stepped forward, her face flushing with sudden rage. "You lying little wretch! Arthur, she is hysterical, fire her this instant!"
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Arthur ignored Victoria's outburst entirely. He leaned in close to Sophie, his breath catching in his throat as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, silver-plated pocket watch. It was engraved with his father’s initials—a heirloom that had supposedly vanished the very night his mother fell silent.
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