Chapter 2
We found the second child’s shoe inside the west guest wing.
Not beside a bed.
Inside a locked laundry cabinet.
Same blue star.
Same size.
Rafe brought it to me while Walter sat under guard in the pavilion.
Gordon had stopped speaking entirely.
Good.
Silence becomes evidence when someone only uses it after facts appear.
I asked the housekeeper whether she recognized the shoes.
She did.
Her face changed immediately.
“They belonged to Molly Crane.”
Molly.
Five years old.
Daughter of Nathan Crane.
Nathan had worked security for Cross until he died eighteen months earlier during a warehouse fire.
His widow, Rebecca, received monthly family support afterward.
Or supposedly did.
I remembered Molly.
Quiet.
Red hair.
Always holding a purple cup at summer gatherings.
“When was she here?”
The housekeeper hesitated.
“Last summer.”
“For how long?”
“Three weeks.”
My chest tightened.
Why would a five-year-old stay here three weeks without her mother?
The housekeeper said Rebecca had been told the estate offered a children’s respite program for families under financial pressure.
I had approved no such program.
Walter had.
Publicly, people believed my uncle still handled many domestic family matters.
That was the cover.
“What happened to Molly?”
“She left.”
“With Rebecca?”
The housekeeper looked away.
“No.”
The room became still.
“With whom?”
“Mr. Gordon.”
I stared.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer frightened me more than any confession.
I called Rebecca immediately.
No response.
Then I learned why.
Her number had been disconnected eight months earlier.
Her apartment empty.
No forwarding address anyone could give me.
Walter listened from the pavilion when I confronted him.
He smiled faintly.
“Rebecca moved.”
“Where?”
“She wanted a fresh start.”
“And Molly?”
“With her.”
“Then why was one shoe in my cupboard and another hidden in my guest wing?”
His smile disappeared.
Gordon finally muttered:
“It wasn’t supposed to stay here.”
I turned toward him.
“The shoe?”
He swallowed.
“No.”
“Molly?”
Silence.
There it was.
Not a lost child.
Not an accident.
May you like
Someone had deliberately kept Molly at the estate.
And whatever happened afterward had scared Gordon more than me finding the cupboard.
