Chapter 5 - The Dead Sister Speaks
Vanessa Sterling had built her life out of perfect reactions.
At charity galas, she knew exactly when to touch a grieving widow’s arm. At hospital openings, she knew how to tilt her head toward sick children without letting pity ruin her lipstick. On magazine covers, she knew how to appear powerful but wounded, elegant but accessible, innocent but interesting.
But no one had prepared her to look surprised by a dead woman.
For three seconds, Vanessa simply stared.
That was all Gabriel needed.
He raised both hands slowly, palms open, and spoke to the lead federal agent standing near the marble table.
“My name is Gabriel Romano. This is my sister, Marisa Romano. She was declared dead six years ago. Dr. Bell found her alive under my property twenty minutes ago. She requires medical care, but she is able to speak.”
The agent, a woman in her fifties with steel-gray hair and no patience in her face, looked from Gabriel to Marisa.
“I’m Special Agent Helen Price,” she said. “Who held you?”
Marisa’s eyes moved to Vanessa.
The foyer changed temperature.
Vanessa recovered too quickly.
“That woman is not Marisa Romano,” she said, voice breaking at exactly the right places. “I do not know who she is, but Gabriel is using her to confuse you.”
Marisa laughed.
It was not a healthy laugh. It was cracked and painful and full of disbelief.
“You wore my mother’s emerald earrings to my memorial dinner.”
Vanessa went still.
Marisa continued, each word growing steadier.
“You said green looked better on blondes anyway.”
Agent Price turned toward Vanessa.
Vanessa lifted one hand to her throat. “Anyone could know that.”
“Your left ankle clicks when you walk because you broke it in Zurich after pushing a waiter down a staircase and blaming him for stealing your bracelet.”
Vanessa’s face hardened.
Victor Sloane appeared at the edge of the foyer, flanked by two agents. His expression was calm, but Evelyn saw the pulse beating in his jaw.
“Special Agent Price,” Victor said, “I strongly recommend separating everyone before Mr. Romano intimidates witnesses.”
Gabriel did not look at him.
Marisa did.
“Hello, Victor.”
Victor’s eyes flicked once toward her wrist, where the restraint had left a deep red mark.
“You look unwell,” he said.
Titan exploded.
The dog surged forward with such force that two agents lifted their weapons, but Evelyn caught his wet fur at the shoulder.
“Titan, no.”
The dog stopped.
Not because of guns.
Because of her voice.
Every person in the foyer saw it.
Gabriel saw it too.
Victor saw it most of all.
Agent Price lowered one hand, signaling her people not to shoot.
Evelyn’s heart pounded so hard she could barely hear.
Titan stood shaking beneath her palm, his eyes locked on Victor.
Agent Price looked at Evelyn. “Who are you?”
“Evelyn Hart. Housekeeping staff.”
“How long have you worked here?”
“Seven days.”
“And why is Mr. Romano’s dog listening to you?”
Evelyn swallowed. “Because someone hurt him, and I stopped pretending he was savage.”
The answer hung in the air.
Then Rosa stepped forward.
“Agent, I am Rosa Bellini, house manager. I have worked for the Romano family twenty-one years. I saw Miss Marisa grow up. This is her.”
Vanessa snapped, “Rosa is loyal to Gabriel.”
Rosa turned toward her.
“No, madam. I was loyal to this house before you learned how to smile for cameras.”
A few staff members behind her murmured.
Agent Price lifted a hand. “Enough. Medical team, assess Ms. Romano. No one leaves. No one speaks to each other.”
Vanessa’s eyes slid toward Victor.
It was quick.
Too quick for most people.
But Evelyn saw it.
So did Titan.
So did Gabriel.
Agent Price saw Evelyn seeing it.
“Miss Hart,” the agent said. “With me.”
Evelyn’s stomach dropped. “Me?”
“You opened the hidden passage?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can show me.”
Gabriel stepped forward. “She is staff. She was threatened tonight.”
Agent Price looked at him coldly. “Mr. Romano, you are standing in a house containing a secret prisoner. I would advise you to stop deciding who answers questions.”
Gabriel’s jaw flexed, but he stepped back.
Evelyn expected Titan to stay with Marisa.
He did not.
When Agent Price led Evelyn toward the service wing, Titan followed.
“No,” one agent said. “Dog stays.”
Titan stopped and showed his teeth.
Evelyn sighed. “He is probably coming.”
Agent Price studied the dog, then Evelyn. “Can you control him?”
“No.”
The agent frowned.
Evelyn added, “But I can ask him.”
For some reason, that answer satisfied her more than a lie would have.
They went down through the laundry room, through the pantry wall, and into the tunnel. Evelyn showed them the storage room, the steel door, the chain, the collar, the carved dates.
Agent Price photographed everything.
When she saw the pronged collar, her mouth tightened.
“Who handled the dog?”
“Calvin Pike,” Evelyn said. “Estate animal handler.”
“We have him.”
Evelyn stared at the dates on the wall. “Marisa made these?”
“Likely.”
“No.”
Agent Price looked at her. “No?”
Evelyn stepped closer to the carved marks.
The scratches were too high.
Marisa, weakened and restrained, could not have made some of them. And the final words—HE SAW THE ROOM—were written in black marker, not carved. The handwriting was slanted, heavy, angry.
“Someone else marked these,” Evelyn said.
Agent Price moved beside her.
Titan sniffed near the trunks.
Evelyn crouched and opened the nearest one.
Inside were blankets, old photographs, and a stack of children’s books wrapped in plastic.
On top lay a silver picture frame.
Gabriel, younger, perhaps twenty. Marisa beside him, laughing. Between them stood a small boy with dark curls, maybe four years old.
Evelyn lifted the frame.
Agent Price leaned in. “Who is the child?”
“I don’t know.”
Titan whined.
Evelyn turned the frame over.
On the back, in faded blue ink, someone had written:
GABRIEL, MARISA, AND LEO — SUMMER BEFORE EVERYTHING CHANGED.
Evelyn’s chest tightened.
Leo.
There had been no mention of a Leo in the staff gossip. No portrait in the mansion. No room preserved. No dead child spoken of in careful whispers.
Footsteps sounded behind them.
Gabriel entered the storage room despite the agent assigned to stop him.
Agent Price snapped, “I told you to remain upstairs.”
Gabriel did not seem to hear her.
His eyes were on the frame in Evelyn’s hand.
All color left his face.
“Where did you get that?”
Evelyn held it out slowly. “It was in the trunk.”
Gabriel took the frame with a hand that did not look entirely steady.
“Who is Leo?” Evelyn asked.
Gabriel’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Then Marisa’s voice answered from behind him.
“Our brother.”
Everyone turned.
She stood at the doorway wrapped in blankets, supported by Rosa and Dr. Bell. Her eyes were hollow but clear.
“Gabriel was told Leo drowned when he was five,” Marisa said. “I was told Gabriel had him sent away.”
Gabriel looked at her as if she had struck him.
“What?”
Marisa’s lips trembled.
“That was the first lie they used to separate us.”
Gabriel shook his head once, slowly. “Leo drowned. Father showed me the report.”
Marisa looked toward Victor, who stood guarded in the tunnel beyond.
“No,” she said.
Victor’s face finally changed.
Marisa lifted one shaking hand and pointed to the steel room.
“Leo was the first child kept here.”
The silence that followed felt inhuman.
Then Titan began barking at the far wall.
Not toward Victor.
Not toward the stairs.
Toward the old stone behind the trunks.
Evelyn moved closer with the lamp.
There, almost hidden behind dust and hanging cloth, was a second seam in the wall.
Smaller.
Lower.
A child-sized door.
May you like
And scratched into the stone beside it were three letters.
L.R.
