Chapter 5 - What Emily Remembered
By late afternoon, rain hammered the mansion windows.
The investors never arrived.
Vincent canceled every meeting.
Cassandra objected.
He ignored her.
For the first time in years, the Moretti mansion stopped performing elegance for outsiders and turned its attention toward what had been happening inside its own walls.
Emily sat beneath a blanket in the library.
The doctor had advised rest.
Vincent had advised honesty.
Emily seemed more frightened of the second prescription.
“I don’t know why Cassandra would want me gone,” she said.
Vincent stood near the fireplace.
“You’re sure?”
Emily hesitated.
“No.”
Lily colored at a small table across the room.
Vincent glanced at her.
“Should she be here?”
Emily followed his gaze.
“She hears more than adults think anyway.”
“That appears to be true.”
Lily continued coloring, pretending not to listen.
Vincent sat opposite Emily.
“Start at the beginning.”
“The beginning of what?”
“When Cassandra first became interested in your work.”
Emily looked uncomfortable.
“She wasn’t interested in my work.”
“She spoke to you.”
“Everyone speaks to staff eventually.”
“What did she ask?”
Emily stared at the fire.
“About Enzo.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“What about him?”
“His routine. What calms him. Whether you visit the nursery at night.”
“Why would she ask that?”
“I assumed she wanted to understand your family.”
Cassandra had been in Vincent’s life for eleven months.
Their relationship had been practical before it became romantic.
She understood his world.
Fundraisers.
Business dinners.
Family expectations.
She never seemed intimidated by wealth because she had grown up around it.
Vincent had admired that.
Now he wondered if he had mistaken familiarity with power for comfort around people.
“Anything else?”
Emily rubbed her palms together.
“She asked about Lily.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“What did she ask?”
“Why Lily was always here.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I’m a single mother and after-school care near the estate is expensive. Mrs. Hargrove had originally agreed Lily could stay in the service apartment.”
“Originally?”
“Rules changed after Miss Vale started spending more time here.”
Vincent said nothing.
Emily continued.
“Lily was no longer allowed in the gardens when guests were present. Then not in the main kitchen. Then not near the nursery.”
“Why?”
Emily gave a tired smile.
“Because she was visible.”
Vincent remembered Cassandra saying boundaries matter.
He felt ashamed again.
“How did you respond?”
“I accepted it.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed the job.”
“That seems to be the answer to everything.”
“For people without money, it often is.”
Vincent let the sentence stand.
“What happened two weeks ago?”
Emily’s expression changed.
“The fundraiser rehearsal.”
Vincent remembered.
Cassandra had hosted a charity committee meeting at the mansion.
“What about it?”
“I was cleaning the west drawing room after everyone left.”
“And?”
“I found papers.”
“What papers?”
“I didn’t read them.”
“Emily.”
“I saw enough.”
Vincent waited.
“There was a staffing proposal.”
“For the mansion?”
“Yes.”
“From whom?”
“Vale Household Management.”
Vincent frowned.
Cassandra’s family had interests in hospitality, but he had never heard that name.
“What did it say?”
“It proposed replacing most of your current household employees after…” Emily stopped.
“After what?”
“After your marriage.”
The room felt colder.
Vincent and Cassandra had discussed marriage.
Privately.
No date.
No announcement.
Nothing signed.
“What else?”
“Mrs. Hargrove’s name was listed as transition director.”
Vincent sat back.
“Did Cassandra know you saw the papers?”
“I thought not.”
“Thought?”
“The next morning she asked whether I had enjoyed cleaning the drawing room.”
Vincent understood.
A warning disguised as conversation.
“What did you do?”
“I started writing things down.”
“What things?”
“Schedules. Strange instructions. Missing supplies.”
“You kept records?”
Emily nodded.
“Where?”
Her face fell.
“In my room.”
“Were they still there this morning?”
“I don’t know.”
Vincent immediately called security.
“Daniel, search Emily’s apartment with her permission.”
Emily nodded.
“And check whether anyone entered it today.”
He ended the call.
“What did you record about Enzo?”
“Three delayed feedings.”
Vincent’s eyes hardened.
“Nora admitted one.”
“I know of three.”
“Anything else?”
“Monitor volume lowered twice. A bottle discarded. Two unexplained changes in his sleep log.”
Vincent stared at her.
“Why didn’t you tell me more aggressively?”
Emily met his eyes.
“I tried.”
The words were not angry.
That made them worse.
Vincent looked away.
He had built a life where messages were filtered to protect his time.
He had never considered what truths might be filtered out with them.
“Tell me about the tea.”
Emily frowned.
“Mrs. Hargrove brought it.”
“Did you request it?”
“No.”
“Did she usually bring you tea?”
Emily almost laughed.
“Never.”
“And you drank it?”
“I didn’t think…”
She stopped.
“You shouldn’t have had to think.”
Vincent’s phone rang.
Daniel.
“We searched the apartment.”
“And?”
“No notebook.”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Someone entered at 10:36.”
Vincent stood.
“Who?”
“We don’t have a camera inside, obviously. Hall camera was part of the deleted window. But the electronic lock recorded a master key.”
“Whose?”
Daniel paused.
“Mrs. Hargrove’s.”
Vincent looked at Emily.
“Anything else?”
“Yes. We found something under the bed.”
“What?”
“An envelope.”
Emily’s eyes opened.
“What envelope?”
Daniel answered slowly.
“It contains five hundred dollars in cash and a bracelet belonging to Miss Vale.”
Emily stood so quickly she nearly fell.
“No.”
Vincent caught her arm.
“I’ve never seen that bracelet.”
“Sit down.”
“No. That’s why. That’s what this is.”
“What?”
“They wanted to fire me for stealing.”
Vincent felt the pieces lock together.
A crying baby.
A forbidden nursery.
A falsified record.
Sedating medication.
Stolen property planted in Emily’s room.
They had not planned one reason to dismiss her.
They had planned several.
If she entered the nursery, she was insubordinate.
If she raised concerns, she was unstable.
If she denied it, they had “evidence” of theft.
A perfect case.
Too perfect.
Vincent called Daniel again.
“Do not touch the cash or bracelet. Photograph everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And find Mrs. Hargrove.”
“She’s gone.”
Vincent became very still.
“What?”
“Her room is empty.”
“She was ordered not to leave.”
“She didn’t use the gate.”
“How?”
“We’re checking.”
Vincent walked to the window.
Rain blurred the estate.
Emily whispered, “She knows.”
“Yes.”
“That you found out.”
“Yes.”
Lily looked up from her drawing.
“I know where she goes.”
Both adults turned.
“What?” Emily asked.
Lily pointed toward the paper she had been drawing.
A rough picture of the mansion.
A garden.
A little square building beyond the trees.
“The old house.”
Vincent frowned.
“What old house?”
“The one behind the roses.”
His estate contained a disused gardener’s cottage.
No household staff had reason to use it.
“How do you know she goes there?”
Lily colored a tiny black figure beside the cottage.
“Because she told me never to.”
Vincent and Emily exchanged a look.
Children noticed forbidden places.
Because adults always made the mistake of telling them exactly where not to look.
Vincent grabbed his coat.
Daniel entered at that moment.
“Sir, we found the route she used. The greenhouse corridor.”
Vincent headed for the door.
Emily stood.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“You need me.”
“You can barely stand.”
“She may have my notebook.”
Vincent stopped.
Emily’s expression was no longer fearful.
It was furious.
“I’ve spent fourteen months being told where I’m allowed to stand in this house. I’m not waiting in another room while someone decides what happens to me.”
Vincent studied her.
Then handed her his spare umbrella.
Outside, thunder shook the windows.
Lily ran toward them.
“Me too.”
Emily shook her head.
“Absolutely not.”
“But—”
“No.”
Vincent called a guard.
“Stay with Lily and Enzo.”
Lily crossed her arms.
Vincent crouched.
“If Mrs. Hargrove comes back, who is most likely to notice something adults miss?”
Lily thought.
“Me.”
“Exactly.”
That satisfied her.
Barely.
Vincent and Emily stepped into the rain.
Beyond the manicured gardens, half-hidden by hedges, stood the old gardener’s cottage.
One window glowed.
Someone was inside.
And when Vincent reached the door, he heard Mrs. Hargrove speaking to another person.
A woman.
“You promised he would never look this closely.”
Then Cassandra answered.
“I promised you he wouldn’t have a reason to.”
Vincent stopped outside the door.
Emily stared at him.
Inside, Cassandra continued.
“Now we have to make sure Emily never gets the chance to tell him why this started.”
Vincent’s hand closed around the door handle.
The mystery had just acquired a motive.
May you like
And for the first time, Cassandra did not know he was listening.
---
