Chapter 2 - The Children Who Wanted Everyone Gone
Norah’s first victory lasted fourteen minutes.
That was how long Ruby remained calm after laughing.
Then she dumped an entire wooden puzzle onto the floor and announced that lunch was stupid.
Theo agreed.
“Food is stupid.”
Norah looked at both children.
“Good.”
They blinked.
“We agree?”
“No.”
Norah walked toward the playroom door.
“If food is stupid, you won’t mind missing dessert.”
Theo’s mouth fell open.
Ruby narrowed her eyes.
“We always get dessert.”
“Not anymore.”
“Mrs. Finch gives us cake.”
Mrs. Finch was the Gallagher estate’s head housekeeper, a nervous woman in her late fifties who had worked for Roman’s parents before Roman inherited the property.
Norah opened the door.
“Then Mrs. Finch and I need to talk.”
Ruby sprinted past her.
Norah caught up without running.
Running turned everything into a game.
Ruby reached the kitchen first.
The kitchen occupied enough space to feed a hotel.
Copper pans hung above a marble island.
Two chefs worked near the ovens.
Mrs. Finch stood at a counter arranging strawberries.
Ruby planted both hands on the marble.
“Cake.”
Mrs. Finch immediately reached for a covered tray.
Norah intercepted it.
“No.”
Mrs. Finch stared.
Ruby screamed.
The chefs froze.
Norah remained still.
Mrs. Finch whispered, “Miss Hayes, perhaps—”
“No.”
Ruby screamed louder.
Theo appeared behind them.
“Daddy lets us have cake.”
Norah looked at him.
“Your dad told me I control the schedule.”
The screaming stopped.
Both children stared at her.
They had not expected Roman’s authority to be used against them.
Norah pulled two plates closer.
“Turkey sandwich or grilled cheese.”
“I want cake,” Ruby said.
“Turkey or grilled cheese?”
“Cake!”
“Ruby.”
Something in Norah’s voice changed.
Not loud.
Not threatening.
Firm.
Ruby went quiet.
“Turkey or grilled cheese?”
Ruby’s lower lip trembled.
“Grilled cheese.”
“Good choice.”
Theo crossed his arms.
“Cake.”
Norah nodded.
“You can sit there until dinner.”
Theo’s eyes widened.
“You can’t starve me.”
“I offered you lunch.”
“I’ll tell Daddy.”
“He knows where to find me.”
That unsettled them more than anger would have.
Mrs. Finch watched as Theo climbed onto a stool.
“Turkey.”
The chef quietly began preparing it.
Norah turned toward Mrs. Finch.
“No sweets unless I approve them.”
Mrs. Finch looked terrified.
“Mr. Gallagher—”
“Gave me control.”
“Yes, but the children—”
“Need adults who mean what they say.”
Mrs. Finch’s eyes softened.
For a second, Norah saw exhaustion there.
“How long have you worked here?” Norah asked.
“Thirty-two years.”
“You knew their mother?”
Mrs. Finch looked toward the twins.
Her expression closed.
“Yes.”
Something about that single word made Norah stop asking questions.
Lunch was messy but peaceful.
Afterward, Norah took the twins outside.
Three armed guards watched from a distance.
The Gallagher property stretched across several acres.
Formal gardens.
A fountain.
Stone terraces.
A playground that looked unused.
Theo stopped when they reached the grass.
“We don’t go past the roses.”
“Why?”
“Daddy says.”
Norah looked toward the security wall.
Beyond the roses stood another fence.
Beyond that, armed guards.
“Then we stay inside the roses.”
Ruby kicked a stone.
“You said you make the rules.”
“I make rules about snacks and bedtime.”
“So Daddy still makes rules?”
“He owns the place.”
Theo looked disappointed.
Norah crouched.
“Rules aren’t always about control.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Sometimes they keep you alive.”
Both children went still.
Norah regretted the phrase immediately.
Ruby looked toward the driveway.
“Mommy had rules.”
Norah said nothing.
Ruby pointed.
“She said we couldn’t go with her that day.”
Theo grabbed Ruby’s hand.
“Stop.”
Ruby’s face changed.
Norah remembered Paul’s file.
Their mother had died six months earlier.
Car fire.
She knew nothing more.
Norah stood.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
Theo stared suspiciously.
Most adults asked questions once children mentioned Evelyn.
Norah didn’t.
He seemed almost disappointed again.
They reached the playground.
The swings were motionless.
Ruby looked at them.
“Mommy pushed us.”
Norah sat on one swing.
“You want me to?”
Ruby considered.
“No.”
“Okay.”
Norah began swinging herself.
Theo sat beside her.
Five minutes later, Ruby climbed onto the third swing.
Nobody spoke.
From an upstairs window, Roman watched.
Paul entered behind him.
“You have a meeting.”
“I know.”
“Vittorio’s waiting.”
“He can wait.”
Paul followed Roman’s gaze.
Norah was swinging between the twins.
“She lasted lunch.”
Roman said nothing.
“That puts her in the top five.”
Roman turned away.
“Stop making jokes about my children.”
Paul’s expression sobered.
“I wasn’t.”
Roman paused.
Paul had worked beside him for thirteen years.
He was one of the few people who could speak without permission.
“You think I’ve failed them.”
Paul chose his words carefully.
“I think you survived something horrible by going to war.”
Roman’s gaze sharpened.
“And they survived it by destroying every room they enter.”
“That sounds like criticism.”
“It’s observation.”
Roman stepped closer.
“Somebody killed Evelyn.”
“I know.”
“Until I find them, my children remain targets.”
“I know.”
“And if I stay around them, they remain closer to the target.”
Paul sighed.
“That’s what you tell yourself.”
Roman’s eyes became dangerous.
Paul continued anyway.
“Maybe they don’t need another nanny.”
Roman looked back outside.
Ruby had begun swinging.
Her legs stretched toward the sky.
Norah walked behind her and pushed gently.
Theo shouted something Roman could not hear.
Norah responded.
Both children laughed.
Roman felt something twist painfully inside his chest.
Paul said quietly, “Maybe they need their father.”
Roman turned from the window.
“Tell Vittorio I’ll be downstairs in five minutes.”
That evening, Norah discovered bedtime was the real battlefield.
Theo refused pajamas.
Ruby hid beneath a table.
Theo threw a toothbrush into the toilet.
Ruby climbed onto a bookshelf.
Norah handled each problem without raising her voice.
She gave choices where choices were harmless.
Blue pajamas or gray.
Story before lights out or after.
Door open or cracked.
When Theo refused to brush his teeth, she sat on the bathroom counter.
“Okay.”
He eyed her.
“Okay?”
“You can decide.”
“I don’t have to?”
“You do.”
His face fell.
“That’s not deciding.”
“You can decide whether you do it now or in two minutes.”
Theo glared.
Norah smiled.
Two minutes later, he brushed his teeth.
At eight thirty, both children were in bed.
Separate beds.
Same room.
Norah turned off the lamp.
Ruby immediately sat up.
“No.”
“What?”
“Light stays.”
“All night?”
Ruby nodded.
Theo faced the wall.
Norah switched it back on.
“Okay.”
She pulled the chair between their beds.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
Theo looked over.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“You’re getting paid.”
“Still don’t have to.”
Silence.
Ten minutes passed.
Ruby whispered, “Did your mom die?”
Norah’s chest tightened.
“No.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
Ruby rolled onto her side.
“Why?”
Norah looked at the ceiling.
“Because sometimes parents leave before kids are ready.”
Theo asked, “Did you have a nanny?”
“No.”
“Who watched you?”
“Lots of people.”
“Did they stay?”
Norah smiled sadly.
“Not usually.”
Ruby seemed to think about this.
“So you know.”
Norah looked at her.
“Yes.”
Ruby closed her eyes.
Thirty minutes later, both children were asleep.
Norah stood carefully.
As she moved toward the door, something caught beneath her shoe.
She looked down.
A tiny silver key.
Not a toy.
A real key.
Norah picked it up.
Behind her, Theo spoke.
“You can’t have that.”
She turned.
His eyes were open.
“What does it open?”
Theo sat up.
“Nothing.”
“That means something.”
Ruby opened her eyes too.
Her face went pale.
“Give it back.”
Norah held out her palm.
Ruby jumped from bed and snatched it.
Then she ran across the room to a dollhouse.
Not the expensive one in the playroom.
A small wooden dollhouse beside the wardrobe.
She opened its roof.
Norah caught a glimpse of something hidden inside.
A small red velvet pouch.
Ruby shoved the key inside and slammed the roof.
“You didn’t see.”
Norah raised both hands.
“I didn’t see.”
Theo stared.
“You can’t tell Daddy.”
Norah’s instincts sharpened.
“Why?”
Ruby whispered four words.
“Because Mommy told us.”
The air changed.
Norah sat slowly.
“When?”
Ruby’s eyes filled.
“The night before she went away.”
Theo climbed from his bed.
He stood beside his sister.
“Mom said nobody could know.”
“Know what?”
Theo shook his head.
Norah did not push.
But Ruby looked toward the dollhouse.
Then toward the door.
Then whispered:
“She said if the bad man came back, the key would keep us safe.”
Norah felt cold.
“What bad man?”
Ruby’s lips parted.
Before she could answer, footsteps sounded outside.
The bedroom door opened.
Roman stood there.
His gaze moved across the scene.
Both children out of bed.
Norah kneeling beside them.
Fear on Ruby’s face.
Roman frowned.
“What happened?”
Ruby grabbed Norah’s hand.
Tightly.
“No reason.”
Roman looked at their joined hands.
Then at Norah.
“What did she tell you?”
Norah remembered what Ruby had asked.
You can’t tell Daddy.
She had promised nothing.
But trust, once broken with a frightened child, might never return.
“Nothing,” Norah said.
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
He knew she was lying.
And in the dollhouse behind Ruby, the red velvet pouch remained hidden.
Inside it was the first piece of evidence Evelyn Gallagher had left behind.
Evidence that suggested her death had not been the work of Roman’s enemies.
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It had been arranged by someone she trusted enough to allow inside her home.
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