Chapter 4: The Name With No Face
Dr.
Harmon arrived at the mansion just before eleven.
He examined Lily in the kitchen — the only room with enough light.
Two bruised ribs.
No fractures.
He gave her something for the pain and told her to rest for at least a week.
"She needs to be somewhere she can actually rest," he said to Rosa, quietly enough that Lily wouldn't hear from the next room.
"Not here."
"I know," Rosa said.
Victor was in his study when Rosa knocked.
"Dr.
Harmon says Lily should go home tonight.
He doesn't think she should stay in the house."
Victor looked up from his desk.
"Is she well enough to travel?"
"He says yes, if it's short."
"Call a car.
Make sure the driver waits until she's inside her building." He paused.
"And give her three months' salary tonight.
Cash from the household account."
Rosa hesitated.
"She'll say she doesn't want it."
"Tell her it isn't optional."
Rosa nodded and turned to leave.
"Rosa." Victor's voice stopped her.
"The message Serena sent tonight — from her phone, around ten forty — do you know who she might have contacted?"
Rosa turned slowly.
"How did you know she sent a message?"
"I didn't.
Until now."
Rosa's face changed.
"There's a man," she said carefully.
"I've seen him twice.
He came to the side entrance.
Serena always met him herself.
She never introduced him to anyone.
She told me he was a contractor — something about renovations."
"What did he look like?"
"Tall.
Dark coat.
He drove a silver car, but the plates were always different." She paused.
"The second time he came, he brought a folder.
Serena took it upstairs.
I never saw it again."
Victor was quiet for a moment.
"Did you ever hear a name?"
"Once.
She called him on the phone in the hallway.
She didn't know I was nearby." Rosa pressed her lips together.
"She called him Marcus."
Victor wrote nothing down.
He didn't need to.
"Thank you, Rosa.
Get some rest."
After she left, he sat for a long time without moving.
Marcus.
He opened his laptop.
He typed the name into a private search — one connected to his security firm's internal database, not a public engine.
He added what he had: tall, silver car, rotating plates, access to Serena, a folder that disappeared.
Seventeen results came back.
He filtered by known associates of Serena's family.
Three remained.
He opened the first profile.
Wrong age.
He opened the second.
The photo loaded slowly.
Victor leaned forward.
He recognized the face.
Not from Serena's world.
From his own.
Marcus Hale had worked for Blackwood Industries four years ago — briefly, in the acquisitions division.
He had left quietly.
Victor had never been given a clear reason.
His head of security at the time had simply said the situation had been "handled."
Victor picked up his phone and called that same head of security.
It rang four times.
"Sir." The voice was alert despite the hour.
"Marcus Hale.
Pull everything we have on him.
Tonight."
A pause.
"Is this connected to the house?"
"Yes."
Another pause, longer this time.
"Victor.
If Hale is involved, this isn't just about the nanny."
Victor looked at the closed door of his study.
"I know," he said.
"That's why I'm calling you at midnight."
He ended the call.
May you like
Down the hall, the east guest room was dark and silent.
But under the door, a thin line of light moved — the glow of a phone screen, shifting as someone typed.
