Chapter 8: The Secret Room Beneath the Mansion
The guards moved instantly.
Emergency lights flickered on, casting the ballroom in a deep red glow.
Daniel pulled me behind him.
“Stay here.””
But I couldn’t move.
The voice.
It was impossible.
It belonged to a memory I barely had.
A memory my mother had spent twenty years trying to erase.
The voice called again.
“Claire.””
My mother suddenly looked terrified.
“No.””
Everyone turned toward her.
Daniel noticed.
“You know who that is.””
She didn’t answer.
“Elizabeth.””
My mother looked at him.
For the first time, she looked defeated.
“It’s impossible.””
Alexander stepped forward.
“Who is it?””
She whispered one name.
“Michael.””
The air changed.
I looked at her.
“Who is Michael?””
My mother’s face went pale.
“He was Isabella’s brother.””
Alexander’s expression hardened.
“He died twenty years ago.””
My mother shook her head.
“No.””
She looked toward the dark hallway.
“He survived.””
The guards moved toward the entrance.
Daniel looked at me.
“Did you know him?””
I shook my head.
“I don’t remember.””
Then I heard footsteps.
Slow.
Calm.
Someone entered the ballroom.
A man stood in the doorway.
Older than I imagined.
But there was something familiar about him.
The eyes.
The expression.
The sadness.
He looked at me.
And whispered:
“You look exactly like her.””
Alexander stepped forward.
“Michael.””
The man smiled faintly.
“Hello, Alexander.””
The guards immediately surrounded him.
Daniel’s voice was cold.
“How did you get inside?””
Michael looked at him.
“Because this mansion was never as secure as you thought.””
Daniel’s face tightened.
“What do you want?””
Michael ignored him.
He looked at me.
“I want to give Claire what everyone else stole.””
I stared.
“What?””
“The truth.””
He reached into his coat.
The guards reacted.
But he slowly pulled out a small wooden box.
A box with a symbol carved into the top.
The same golden lion.
My breath caught.
Michael placed it on the table.
“This belonged to Isabella.””
My mother whispered:
“No.””
Michael opened it.
Inside was an old photograph.
And a key.
I picked up the photograph.
It showed Isabella holding me as a baby.
But there was something written on the back.
A message.
I turned it over.
My hands trembled.
*“For Claire. When she is old enough to understand why I had to disappear.””*
I looked at Michael.
“Disappear?””
He nodded.
“Your mother didn’t die because of an accident.””
The room went silent.
Alexander looked shocked.
“What are you saying?””
Michael looked at him.
“I’m saying someone wanted Isabella gone.””
My heart stopped.
“Who?””
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Michael looked around the room.
Then his eyes landed on Victor.
Victor’s smile disappeared.
“That’s enough.””
Daniel immediately noticed.
“You know something.””
Victor stepped back.
“I know this is a ridiculous story from a desperate man.””
Michael laughed softly.
“Still pretending?””
Daniel moved toward Victor.
“Answer me.””
Victor said nothing.
Michael pointed at him.
“He was there the night Isabella disappeared.””
The entire room changed.
My mother started crying.
Alexander looked at Victor with disbelief.
“You told me she left.””
Victor didn’t respond.
Daniel’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“Why?””
Victor finally looked at me.
And the expression on his face made my blood run cold.
“Because your mother was never the target.””
May you like
He paused.
“You were.””
