Chapter 2
The dust told the first story.
Most of the old service stairs had not been used regularly in years.
The edges of the steps were gray.
The center was not.
Recent shoes had cleared a narrow path through the dust.
More than one pair.
Grant found fibers from banquet boxes, pieces of packing tape, and the corner of a printed shipping label near the lower door.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing that explained Ellie.
But enough to establish that the room was active.
Luciano ordered the passage sealed for evidence preservation.
Marianne objected.
“This is becoming ridiculous.”
Luciano looked at her.
“My daughter was found behind a wall.”
“I meant treating every dusty box like part of a conspiracy.”
He said nothing.
Her choice of word interested him.
Conspiracy.
Nobody else had used it.
Celina’s attorney arrived that evening.
Rachel Moss was calm, competent, and smart enough not to defend the indefensible.
Celina admitted locking Ellie in the room.
She called it a terrible lapse in judgment.
Luciano stared across the library table.
“How many times?”
Celina looked toward Rachel.
Rachel said, “Answer only what you can answer accurately.”
Celina swallowed.
“Tonight was the first time I locked the door.”
Luciano remembered the scratches.
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
Silence.
“How many times has Ellie been inside that room?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“She likes hiding.”
Luciano’s expression changed.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“My daughter apparently likes hiding in a room she couldn’t open from the inside.”
Celina looked away.
Rachel intervened.
“Do not speculate.”
Luciano nodded.
“Fair.”
He leaned back.
“Why were her clothes filthy?”
“Because she had been throwing a tantrum.”
“Tantrums tear dresses?”
“She was on the floor.”
“Why?”
Celina’s composure weakened.
“She has been difficult for months.”
There it was.
The beginning of a narrative.
Difficult.
Disruptive.
Tantrums.
Luciano had heard none of this.
“Who knows she’s difficult?”
“The staff.”
He called Mrs. Parker into the room.
“Is Ellie unusually difficult?”
The nanny stared at Celina.
Then at Luciano.
“No.”
Celina snapped, “She screams whenever she doesn’t get what she wants.”
“She’s three,” Mrs. Parker said.
Luciano almost smiled.
He didn't.
Celina continued.
“She wanders. She interrupts adult conversations. She refuses quiet time.”
Mrs. Parker looked increasingly confused.
Luciano asked, “Has Celina ever told you to put Ellie in the secret room?”
“No.”
“Has Ellie disappeared before?”
Mrs. Parker hesitated.
Luciano noticed.
“When?”
“Three times.”
Celina closed her eyes.
Mrs. Parker continued.
“Only briefly. Maybe twenty minutes. Miss Ward always said Ellie had fallen asleep somewhere.”
“Where did you find her?”
“Usually back in her nursery.”
“Was she upset?”
“Once.”
“How?”
“She wouldn’t let go of the stuffed rabbit.”
Luciano looked toward Celina.
The engagement had lasted eight months.
The disappearances began five months ago.
Grant entered with preliminary access information from the service wing.
Someone had ordered the old stairwell cleaned six months earlier.
The authorization came through estate household management.
Signed by Marianne.
Luciano slowly looked toward his aunt.
Marianne did not blink.
“I had old storage inspected.”
“Why?”
“Because the engagement reception required more banquet space.”
Possible.
Reasonable.
Maybe even true.
But the timeline now contained two women.
Celina began controlling Ellie’s movements five months ago.
May you like
Marianne reopened the hidden service route six months ago.
One month earlier.
