Chapter 2: The Locked Door
Part 2 ⬇️
Dominic didn't move.
He kept staring at his mother's face.
That look.
He had never seen it before.
Not when Celeste d*ed.
Not when the lawyers came.
Not once in thirty-seven years.
"What's in the east wing?" he said quietly.
Beatrice straightened.
"Nothing.
Storage.
Old furniture."
"Then why is he pointing at it?"
"Because he's a disturbed child, Dominic.
He doesn't know what he's saying."
Oliver pressed himself against the staircase railing and made a low, broken sound.
Claire didn't look at Beatrice.
She kept her eyes on Oliver.
"How long has that wing been locked?" she asked.
The room went still.
Beatrice turned slowly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I tried to clean in there last week," Claire said.
"The door was locked.
I asked Mrs.
Hargrove for the key." She paused.
"She said to ask you."
Dominic looked at his mother.
Beatrice's chin lifted.
"Staff do not need access to every room in this house."
"Oliver." Claire's voice was barely a whisper.
The boy looked at her.
"Is someone in that room?"
Oliver's whole body went rigid.
Then he nodded.
Dominic was already moving toward the stairs when Beatrice stepped in front of him.
"Don't."
One word.
Spoken like a warning.
And that was when Dominic realized his mother wasn't trying to protect the room.
She was trying to protect whatever was inside it.
---
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What Dominic found behind that locked door shattered everything he thought he knew about his wife's death.
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