Chapter 3: The Notebook in the Drawer
Mrs.
Chen led Adrian through the back hallway and into the study without a word.
Vanessa followed three steps behind.
Her heels clicked against the marble.
Fast.
Uneven.
"Whatever she's about to show you," Vanessa said, "she's been angry at me for months.
She has a reason to lie."
Mrs.
Chen stopped at the desk.
She opened the bottom drawer and lifted out a small notebook.
Dark green cover.
Worn at the corners.
She placed it on the desk in front of Adrian.
"I kept this," she said quietly, "because I did not know what else to do."
Adrian looked at the notebook.
Then at Mrs.
Chen.
"What is this?"
"Dates.
What I saw.
What I heard.
What Lily told me when she came to the kitchen and thought no one was listening."
Vanessa stepped forward.
"That is private property.
You had no right—"
"It is my notebook," Mrs.
Chen said.
"My handwriting.
My words."
Adrian opened the cover.
The first entry was dated fourteen months ago.
*Lily came to the kitchen at 7 in the morning.
Her left arm had a bruise above the elbow.
She said she fell on the stairs.
She would not look at me when she said it.*
Adrian's jaw tightened.
He turned the page.
*Vanessa told Lily she was not allowed to call her father at work.
I heard this through the hallway door.
Lily did not argue.
She just nodded and went back to her room.*
He turned another page.
Then another.
The entries were short.
Careful.
Each one written in the same neat hand, with the date at the top and nothing added that Mrs.
Chen had not personally witnessed.
"How many entries?" Adrian asked.
"Thirty-one," Mrs.
Chen said.
"Over fourteen months."
The room was very quiet.
Vanessa laughed.
It came out wrong.
Too high.
Too fast.
"This is ridiculous.
A housekeeper's diary?
Adrian, you cannot seriously—"
"There is a photograph," Mrs.
Chen said.
"On the last page."
Adrian turned to the back of the notebook.
A photograph was tucked inside the cover.
He lifted it out.
It showed Lily sitting on the kitchen floor, her back against the cabinet, her knees pulled to her chest.
Her face was turned slightly away from the camera.
On her right cheek, visible even in the dim kitchen light, was a red mark.
Adrian stared at the photograph for a long time.
"When was this taken?" he asked.
"Eight months ago," Mrs.
Chen said.
"A Tuesday.
You were in Singapore for the week."
Adrian set the photograph down on the desk.
He did not look at Vanessa.
"Where is Lily now?" he asked.
"Olivia took her inside.
To her room."
He nodded.
He closed the notebook.
He kept his hand flat on the cover.
"Mrs.
Chen," he said.
"Thank you."
Mrs.
Chen nodded once and stepped back toward the door.
Vanessa moved toward the desk.
"Adrian.
Listen to me.
That child has always been dramatic.
She cries over nothing.
James has been filling her head with stories for years, and Mrs.
Chen has never liked me from the day I—"
"Don't." He still hadn't looked at her.
"Don't say another word."
Vanessa stopped.
He picked up the notebook and the photograph.
He walked past her toward the door.
"Adrian." Her voice shifted.
Softer now.
Careful.
"We can talk about this.
Whatever you think happened, I can explain it.
We have a life here.
We have plans.
You are not going to throw everything away over a housekeeper's notebook and a video that Olivia—"
He stopped in the doorway.
He turned around.
"Olivia is seventeen," he said.
"And she had the presence of mind to record what you did.
My daughter recorded you because she already knew you would lie."
Vanessa said nothing.
"That tells me everything I need to know about how long this has been happening."
He walked out.
Vanessa stood alone in the study.
She looked at the empty desk where the notebook had been.
Then she picked up her phone and walked to the window.
She dialed.
Waited.
May you like
"It's me," she said quietly.
"We have a problem."
