Chapter 2
Margaret recognized the key first.
She whispered one name.
“Eleanor.”
Richard turned on her.
“Shut up.”
I looked at Margaret.
“Who was Eleanor?”
She stared at me as if I had insulted the dead.
“You know who she was.”
Of course I did.
Eleanor Hart.
Daniel’s grandmother.
The woman who controlled the Hart organization before Richard ever learned to enjoy being called patriarch.
Dead fourteen years.
The original owner of half the rooms in this estate.
Richard climbed to his feet.
“Give me the key.”
“No.”
“It belongs to this house.”
“So do I.”
He laughed.
“You married into this family.”
Lily tightened her arms around my neck.
Richard noticed.
“Look at her.”
His voice dripped contempt.
“Still clinging.”
I stared.
“She hit her head.”
“She cried before that.”
He pointed at the floor.
“Children learn faster when comfort isn’t immediate.”
Margaret said nothing.
That told me she had heard this philosophy before.
Daniel crawled from the collapsed gifts.
“Emma, enough.”
I looked at him.
“You pulled me away from the envelope.”
“I was stopping a scene.”
“You grabbed your wife while your father lunged for a key.”
His jaw tightened.
“It’s old family business.”
I almost smiled.
“I am family.”
Richard laughed.
“No.”
He looked at Lily.
“Neither is she, if you keep raising her like that.”
Lily flinched.
I felt it.
Then she whispered:
“Grandpa said Mommy goes away after Christmas.”
Every adult stopped.
I looked at Richard.
“What did you tell her?”
He shrugged.
“Children hear nonsense.”
Lily shook her head.
“He said Daddy gets the house.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
There.
Another crack.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was one sheet.
Not a deed.
Not a will.
Just Eleanor Hart’s handwriting.
If Richard ever calls this house his, take the key beneath the old chapel stairs before midnight.
Do not warn him.
My pulse slowed.
Richard stepped forward.
“Burn that.”
Margaret whispered:
“Richard…”
He turned.
“Not one word.”
I looked at the clock.
8:17 p.m.
May you like
Then at the antique key.
Whatever Eleanor had hidden beneath this house, Richard had spent fourteen years making sure nobody opened it.
