Chapter 2 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
The darkness lasted exactly eleven seconds.
Lila counted every one of them.
Not deliberately.
Her mind simply needed something to hold on to while Sebastian Crowe’s final words repeated inside her head.
Elias Thorne didn’t die from the illness you were told he had.
One.
Two.
Three.
Somewhere near the study door, Julian cursed.
Four.
A chair scraped violently across the floor.
Five.
“Sebastian?”
Six.
No answer.
Seven.
Lila heard footsteps.
Not Julian’s.
They were softer. Faster.
Moving away.
Eight.
“Sebastian!” Julian shouted.
Nine.
Something slammed in the corridor.
Ten.
Lila reached blindly for the desk.
Eleven.
The emergency lights came on.
Dim red illumination flooded the study.
Julian stood beside the fallen laptop.
Lila was near the desk.
The study door was wide open.
Sebastian Crowe was gone.
For half a second, neither of them moved.
Then Julian ran.
“Sebastian!”
Lila followed him into the corridor.
The mansion looked completely different under emergency lighting. The polished marble walls reflected streaks of red. Paintings became dark rectangles. Sculptures cast distorted shadows across the floor.
Julian reached the main staircase.
“Security!”
No answer.
He pulled out his phone.
No signal.
“That’s impossible,” he muttered.
Lila checked hers.
Nothing.
Not merely weak reception.
No service.
“Someone shut something down,” she said.
Julian looked at her.
“You think?”
“I think your art consultant disappeared immediately after telling me my father didn’t die the way I thought he did.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
They reached the security room on the ground floor.
The door was locked.
Julian punched a code into the panel.
Nothing.
He tried again.
“Override?”
“Inside.”
Lila stared at him.
“You built a mansion where the emergency security override is inside the locked security room?”
“I didn’t build it.”
“Comforting.”
Julian shot her an irritated look, but before he could respond, electricity surged through the mansion.
The chandeliers flickered.
Then the normal lights returned.
At the same moment, Lila’s phone regained signal.
Julian’s did too.
He immediately called security.
“Grant, where are you?”
He listened.
His expression hardened.
“What do you mean you were locked out?”
Another pause.
“Find Crowe. Seal every gate.”
He ended the call.
Lila folded her arms.
“You think Sebastian caused the blackout?”
“I think he knew it was coming.”
“That’s different.”
Julian studied her.
Despite everything, Lila saw the businessman reasserting control. His fear was being packed away behind calculation.
“Go home,” he said.
She almost laughed.
“No.”
“Ms. Thorne—”
“Lila.”
He hesitated.
“Lila. Someone interfered with my security system. Until I know who and why, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Sebastian just told me something about my father.”
“And then vanished.”
“Exactly why I’m not leaving.”
“You’re a cleaner, not an investigator.”
“And apparently you’re an art collector who doesn’t know where his paintings come from, so perhaps neither of us should rely too heavily on job titles.”
Julian stared at her.
For the briefest instant, she thought he might smile.
He didn’t.
But some of the hostility disappeared.
“Fine.”
He turned toward the study.
“We start with the photograph.”
When they returned, Lila immediately knew something was wrong.
The envelope remained on the floor.
The laptop remained beside the chair.
The photograph was gone.
Julian stopped.
“I had it.”
Lila looked at his empty hand.
“You dropped it during the blackout?”
“No.”
“Check your pockets.”
“I know what I did.”
“Humor me.”
He checked.
Nothing.
They searched beneath the desk, chairs, sofa, and curtains.
Nothing.
Someone had taken it.
Lila looked toward the open door.
“Eleven seconds.”
“What?”
“The lights were off for eleven seconds.”
Julian understood.
“Someone else was in the room.”
A chill crawled over her skin.
Julian called security again.
Within minutes, three guards were searching the mansion.
Sebastian’s car remained in the underground garage.
His coat remained on a chair near the entrance.
But Sebastian himself had vanished.
There were only two exits from the study corridor.
One led toward the staircase.
The other ended at the Grand Gallery.
According to the cameras, no one had used either during the blackout.
“Then there’s another way out,” Lila said.
Julian looked at Grant, his security chief.
Grant was broad-shouldered, perhaps fifty, with close-cropped gray hair.
“There isn’t.”
“There has to be.”
“I’ve worked here fourteen years.”
Lila looked at Julian.
“How old is this house?”
“My grandfather bought it sixty-two years ago.”
“And renovated it?”
“Several times.”
“By whom?”
Julian glanced toward Grant.
Neither answered immediately.
Lila sighed.
“Rich people really do make mysteries unnecessarily difficult.”
Julian ignored that.
“My father supervised the major renovation twenty-one years ago.”
The timing struck both of them simultaneously.
Twenty-one years.
Before Elias died.
Before Lila painted The Silent Echo.
Before Marcus Vale entered her life.
“Show me the old plans,” she said.
Julian frowned.
“You think there are secret passages?”
“I think Sebastian Crowe disappeared from a corridor without using an exit.”
“This isn’t a Gothic novel.”
“No. In a Gothic novel, you’d probably be more charming.”
This time Julian actually almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his phone rang.
Grant answered first.
“Sir.”
He was staring at his own phone.
“What?”
“We found Crowe.”
Lila’s heart jumped.
“Where?”
Grant looked uncomfortable.
“Outside the east gate.”
They reached the gate less than two minutes later.
Sebastian was sitting on the wet pavement.
His white shirt was soaked through.
There was blood on his temple.
Two guards stood over him.
Julian crouched.
“Sebastian.”
Crowe opened his eyes.
His gaze moved past Julian and locked onto Lila.
Fear exploded across his face.
“No.”
He tried to stand.
“Keep her away from me.”
Lila stopped.
“What?”
“Keep her away!”
Julian caught Sebastian’s shoulder.
“Calm down.”
“She shouldn’t be here.”
“You were the one who knew her name.”
“I never said that.”
Lila stared at him.
“You knew about Elias.”
Sebastian looked confused.
“Who?”
Her anger flared.
“My father.”
“I don’t know your father.”
“You just told me he didn’t die from his illness.”
Sebastian’s face emptied.
“I said no such thing.”
Lila looked at Julian.
“You heard him.”
“I did.”
Sebastian shook his head.
“No.”
“You were standing in my study,” Julian said.
Sebastian stared at him.
“I was?”
Silence.
Julian’s expression changed.
“When is the last thing you remember?”
Sebastian touched the blood near his temple.
“I came here at four fifteen.”
“That was nearly two hours ago.”
“I entered the gallery.”
“And?”
Sebastian closed his eyes.
“I saw her.”
He pointed toward Lila.
“She was standing beside The Silent Echo.”
Lila waited.
“Then?”
“I don’t know.”
Julian looked at Grant.
“Call a doctor.”
“No hospitals,” Sebastian said immediately.
The urgency in his voice was unmistakable.
Julian narrowed his eyes.
“Why?”
“I said no hospitals.”
“You have a head injury.”
“It’s superficial.”
“You’ve lost nearly two hours.”
Sebastian struggled to his feet.
“I need to go home.”
Lila stepped in front of him.
“You’re not leaving until you tell me about Elias.”
“I don’t know Elias.”
“You knew the photograph.”
“What photograph?”
Her frustration became fury.
“The photograph you told me not to touch.”
Sebastian stared at her.
Then something changed.
Not recognition.
Terror.
He grabbed her wrist.
“Listen to me.”
Julian immediately moved forward.
“Let her go.”
Sebastian ignored him.
His fingers tightened around Lila’s wrist.
“If you receive anything with your name handwritten on it, burn it.”
Lila froze.
“You remember the envelope.”
“I remember nothing.”
“Then how do you know—”
“Burn it.”
“Why?”
Sebastian leaned closer.
“Because Helena made the same mistake.”
Lila’s blood went cold.
“My mother?”
Sebastian released her.
His expression shifted again.
Confusion returned.
“Your mother?”
Lila stared at him.
He genuinely appeared not to understand what he had just said.
Grant stepped closer.
“Sir, medical team’s coming.”
Sebastian looked around as though waking from a nightmare.
Then he whispered, “I need to leave.”
Julian blocked him.
“You’re staying.”
“I work for you. You don’t own me.”
“No,” Julian said quietly. “Apparently my family has done enough owning things that never belonged to us.”
The remark silenced everyone.
Sebastian looked at him strangely.
Then his gaze moved toward the mansion.
Specifically toward an upper-floor window.
His face changed.
“Who is upstairs?”
Julian turned.
“No one.”
Sebastian backed away.
“There’s someone in Helena’s room.”
Julian went completely still.
Lila noticed.
“What room?”
Julian didn’t answer.
“Julian.”
“My mother’s bedroom.”
“You kept it?”
“My father sealed it after she disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
Lila stared at him.
“You said she died.”
“I was told she died.”
“By whom?”
“My father.”
There it was.
Another crack.
Another version of the past collapsing.
Julian looked toward the illuminated window.
“Grant.”
The security chief already had his radio out.
“Two men upstairs. Now.”
They entered through the east wing.
Lila followed despite Julian telling her twice to remain downstairs.
Helena Blackwood’s bedroom stood at the end of a corridor Lila had never cleaned.
The entire wing had always been restricted.
The door was locked.
Not electronically.
With an old brass keyhole.
Julian stared at it.
“I don’t have the key.”
Grant stepped forward.
“I can force it.”
“Do it.”
The lock broke on the third strike.
The door swung inward.
Dust moved through the flashlight beams.
The bedroom looked untouched.
A four-poster bed stood against the far wall.
Silk curtains had faded almost gray.
A dressing table was covered with perfume bottles.
An old piano stood beneath the window.
And everywhere—
Paintings.
Lila stopped breathing.
Dozens of them.
Small portraits.
Landscapes.
Charcoal sketches.
Unfinished canvases.
She approached one.
A young Julian, perhaps eight years old, asleep beside a fireplace.
Another showed a garden.
Another showed Richard Blackwood standing beside a lake.
“These are hers,” Julian whispered.
Lila looked at him.
“You didn’t know she painted?”
“No.”
Lila moved toward the largest canvas.
It had been turned toward the wall.
Something about it pulled at her.
She reached for the frame.
Julian helped her rotate it.
The painting showed two children.
A boy and a baby girl.
The boy was unmistakably Julian.
The infant rested in his arms.
On the bottom corner, Helena had painted a date.
Lila calculated automatically.
Her own birth year.
Julian stepped closer.
“That’s impossible.”
Lila could barely speak.
“Is that me?”
He shook his head.
“I never met you.”
But the painting suggested otherwise.
Behind them, Sebastian appeared in the doorway.
No one had heard him approach.
His face was pale.
“I told them not to open this room.”
Julian turned sharply.
“Why?”
Sebastian stared at the painting.
Then at Lila.
“Because your father wasn’t trying to hide Helena from you.”
He looked at Julian.
“He was trying to hide what Helena discovered.”
Lila stepped toward him.
“What did she discover?”
Sebastian pointed toward the piano.
“Open it.”
Julian lifted the lid.
Nothing unusual.
“Not there,” Sebastian said.
“The music compartment.”
Julian opened the narrow wooden panel beneath the keyboard.
Inside was a stack of sheet music.
And a small black notebook.
Julian reached for it.
Sebastian grabbed his arm.
“If you read that, you cannot pretend you don’t know.”
Julian pulled free.
“I’m finished pretending.”
He opened the notebook.
The first pages contained dates.
Payments.
Initials.
Locations.
Marcus Vale’s name appeared repeatedly.
So did Richard Blackwood’s.
Then Lila saw another name.
Elias Thorne.
Beside it was a payment.
$250,000.
Lila felt sick.
“My father received money from Richard?”
“No,” Sebastian said.
“Then what is this?”
Sebastian looked at her.
“That wasn’t a payment to Elias.”
Julian slowly turned the page.
The next entry contained only five words.
E. THORNE — REMOVAL CONFIRMED.
Lila’s knees nearly gave way.
“No.”
Julian caught her elbow.
She pulled away.
“No.”
Her father had died in a hospital bed.
She remembered his thin hands.
His breathing.
The smell of antiseptic.
The machines.
She had been there.
“You’re saying Richard paid someone to kill him?”
Sebastian said nothing.
“ANSWER ME!”
“I don’t know.”
“You know something!”
“I know your father became dangerous to Richard.”
“Why?”
“Because Elias knew what Helena had found.”
Julian turned another page.
A photograph slipped from between the sheets and landed face down.
Lila bent before anyone could stop her.
She picked it up.
The photograph was old.
A hospital room.
Helena sat upright in bed holding a newborn baby.
Richard Blackwood stood beside her.
But Elias was there too.
On the back, Helena had written:
For Julian, when he is old enough to forgive me.
Underneath was another sentence.
Lila read it twice.
Then a third time.
Julian took the photograph.
His lips parted.
“No.”
The sentence said:
Tell him Lila is his sister, but Richard Blackwood is not her father.
The room fell silent.
Lila stared at Sebastian.
“Then who is?”
Sebastian looked toward the doorway.
He seemed suddenly terrified of something behind them.
Julian turned.
No one was there.
When Lila looked back, Sebastian had pulled a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket.
“I found this in my pocket outside the gate.”
He handed it to her.
“I don’t remember putting it there.”
Lila unfolded it.
There was an address.
And beneath it:
11:30 P.M. COME ALONE IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO YOUR FATHER REALLY IS.
Her pulse accelerated.
Then Julian noticed something else.
“There’s writing on the back.”
Lila turned the paper over.
Three more words had been written in black ink.
Elias is alive.