Chapter 4 - THE BLUE ROOM
I didn't remember leaving the library.
One moment I was standing there.
The next, I was sitting in the kitchen with a glass of water I wasn't drinking.
My mother.
Mara Bennett.
The woman I had been told died in a car accident when I was eighteen.
Suddenly, every memory I had of her felt incomplete.
The blue scarf she wore.
The old photograph I kept in my bedroom.
The way my father refused to talk about the accident.
The locked box he never let me open.
Dominic sat across from me.
He hadn't left.
“I'm sorry.”
I looked at him.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Then why do you look like you believe her?”
“Because Sofia wrote your name.”
“My name didn't exist in her life.”
“Maybe it did.”
Marcus entered carrying a folder.
“We found Mara's death report.”
He placed it on the table.
I stared at it.
Official cause.
Vehicle failure.
No evidence of foul play.
But one detail stood out.
The vehicle had been inspected two weeks before the accident.
No mechanical issues.
I looked up.
“That makes no sense.”
Marcus nodded.
“It was reclassified after the accident.”
“By whom?”
He looked at Dominic.
“Your father's security company.”
My stomach tightened.
Dominic closed his eyes.
“My father.”
“Was he involved?”
“I don't know.”
That was the first honest answer he had given me.
Then Marcus placed another object on the table.
A small silver watch.
Old.
Scratched.
Dominic stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was in the evidence archive.”
I looked at the watch.
The same design from the photograph.
Dominic picked it up.
Turned it over.
There were initials engraved inside.
R.V.
Dominic frowned.
“My father's initials were D.V.”
“Then whose?”
“Richard Vale.”
“Your uncle?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“The man wearing the watch.”
Dominic nodded.
“Richard was the one person my father trusted completely.”
Marcus added quietly, “Richard disappeared after Sofia's accident.”
I looked at him.
“Disappeared?”
“He left Westchester.”
“Where did he go?”
“We don't know.”
Dominic put the watch down.
“We're going to the blue room.”
I followed him upstairs.
The blue room was at the end of the west wing.
It had been locked for years.
Dominic opened it with an old key.
Dust covered everything.
A piano stood beneath the window.
A bookshelf.
An old desk.
A child's drawing.
And a blue coat hanging beside the door.
I stopped.
“That coat.”
Dominic looked at me.
“What?”
“I've seen it.”
“Where?”
“In my father's house.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“My father?”
“My childhood home.”
I walked toward it.
The coat looked exactly like one I remembered from my mother's belongings.
I touched the sleeve.
A small brass button came loose.
Behind it was a folded photograph.
Mara.
Sofia.
And Dominic.
All three were standing beside a lake.
I stared.
“I knew Sofia.”
Dominic looked at me.
“You were a child.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
I pointed toward the photograph.
“That isn't me.”
There was another girl in the picture.
About seventeen.
The same woman from the earlier photograph.
Mara.
Sofia.
And Mara's daughter.
Me.
I couldn't remember it.
Dominic studied the image.
“You were there.”
“Why don't I remember?”
“Trauma.”
I looked at him.
“Don't diagnose me.”
“I wasn't.”
He softened.
“I'm sorry.”
I looked down.
Something was written on the back.
Mara, if anything happens to me, protect Elena from Richard.
My heart stopped.
Dominic read it.
His face became hard.
“Richard knew about you.”
Marcus appeared in the doorway.
“Boss.”
Dominic turned.
“What?”
Marcus held a small envelope.
“We found this in the desk.”
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a bank receipt.
A large payment.
Recipient:
MARA BENNETT.
Sender:
VALE FAMILY TRUST.
Date:
Three days before her death.
I stared.
“Why would your family pay my mother?”
Dominic didn't answer.
Marcus turned the receipt over.
There was handwriting on the back.
FOR HER SILENCE.
Dominic looked at me.
“I swear to you, Elena, I didn't know.”
I believed him.
That frightened me.
Because if Dominic wasn't the person who had ordered my mother's silence—
someone else had been using his family name.
Then the door behind us clicked shut.
We turned.
Nobody was there.
The blue room was empty.
Except for one thing.
The piano keys had moved.
A single note sounded.
Dominic's face changed.
He walked toward it.
Under the piano bench was a small child's music box.
He opened it.
Inside was a folded piece of paper.
Only one sentence.
RICHARD DIDN'T ORDER MARA'S DEATH.
Dominic stared.
Then the music box played a melody.
The same song I had been singing yesterday.
Dominic looked at me.
May you like
And whispered—
“Sofia knew you were coming.”
