Chapter 12 – Margaret Ashford
Emma stood speechless as Detective Collins lowered the radio.
The attic seemed impossibly quiet.
Only seconds earlier, Emma had believed her parents had been kidnapped.
Now she was hearing something entirely different.
"They left... willingly?" she asked.
Detective Collins nodded slowly.
"That's what the surveillance team is telling me."
Emma looked down at the letter still clutched in her hands.
Her father had written Margaret Ashford's name only hours—or perhaps days—before someone searched the house.
Had he known she was coming?
Or had he planned to meet her all along?
Ryan spoke from across the room.
"They trusted her."
Emma turned sharply.
"You know Margaret?"
Ryan hesitated before answering.
"I've never met her."
"Then how do you know they trusted her?"
"Because if Margaret finally revealed herself..."
He swallowed.
"...it means she's out of places to hide."
An hour later, Detective Collins escorted Emma back outside.
The forensic team continued photographing every room.
Officers carefully boxed up the remaining documents.
Collins handed Emma a printed still image from the train station surveillance footage.
"There."
Emma looked closely.
The image was grainy, but she could clearly recognize her parents.
Her father carried a worn leather bag over one shoulder.
Her mother held his hand.
Standing beside them was an elderly woman with silver hair tucked beneath a wide-brimmed hat.
Although the image lacked detail, there was something remarkably dignified about the way she stood.
Straight-backed.
Confident.
Almost regal.
"Margaret Ashford?" Emma asked.
Collins nodded.
"Our facial recognition system produced a ninety-two percent match."
Emma studied the woman.
She didn't look frightened.
Neither did Emma's parents.
All three appeared calm.
As though this meeting had been planned.
Emma returned home late that evening.
The house felt emptier than ever.
Noah was asleep on the couch under the watchful eye of Emma's longtime neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez.
The elderly woman hugged Emma tightly.
"Oh, sweetheart."
Emma smiled weakly.
"Thank you for staying with him."
"Of course."
Mrs. Alvarez hesitated.
"There was one more thing."
She handed Emma a small padded envelope.
"A courier dropped this off about an hour ago."
"No return address?"
She shook her head.
"He only said it was urgent."
After thanking her again, Emma waited until the house was quiet before opening it.
Inside was a single antique key.
Attached to it was a handwritten tag.
Ashford Manor – Library
Nothing else.
No explanation.
Her phone vibrated.
The anonymous number.
Take the key. Go alone. Trust Margaret.
Emma immediately replied.
Who are you?
This time...
Instead of a text...
Her phone rang.
Emma answered cautiously.
"Hello?"
For several seconds, only silence.
Then a familiar female voice spoke.
Soft.
Tired.
Almost trembling.
"Emma..."
Emma's heart skipped.
"I know that voice."
"You should."
The woman took a shaky breath.
"My name is Claire Bennett."
Emma nearly dropped the phone.
"Claire?"
"Yes."
"You're alive."
"Barely."
Emma sat down.
"I've been looking for you."
"I know."
"You know?"
"I've been watching."
Emma frowned.
"You've been the one sending me messages?"
"No."
"Then who has?"
A long pause followed.
Finally, Claire answered.
"I don't know."
Emma's confusion deepened.
"They've been protecting me."
"They've also been protecting me."
Claire sounded exhausted.
"But whoever they are..."
She lowered her voice.
"...they've stayed hidden from everyone."
Emma looked toward the front window.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why?"
"Because if you know..."
Claire's voice cracked.
"...they'll find me."
Emma closed her eyes.
"I need answers."
"So do I."
"My parents left with Margaret Ashford."
"I know."
"How?"
"I saw them."
Emma's pulse quickened.
"You've seen Margaret?"
"Yesterday."
Emma gripped the phone tighter.
"Then tell me where she is."
"I can't."
"Claire."
"They're watching every phone call."
Emma glanced around instinctively.
Claire continued speaking quickly.
"Listen carefully."
"What?"
"Your father never trusted banks."
Emma frowned.
"What?"
"The ownership records..."
Claire whispered.
"...aren't on paper anymore."
Emma's heartbeat quickened.
"What do you mean?"
"They were converted."
"Converted into what?"
"A ledger."
Emma blinked.
"I don't understand."
"You will."
Claire paused.
"When you reach Ashford Manor."
The call suddenly broke apart with loud static.
"Claire?"
No response.
Then, just before the line disconnected completely, Claire shouted one final sentence.
"Don't let Lily get there first!"
The call ended.
Emma stared at the silent phone.
Almost immediately, another message arrived from the anonymous number.
Claire told you enough.
Emma typed back.
Who are you?
This time...
The sender answered.
Someone who promised Jonathan Ashford that I'd protect his daughter until he could return.
Emma felt her pulse racing.
Return?
If Jonathan Ashford was still alive...
Was he finally coming back?
Before she could think any further, Detective Collins called.
"Emma."
"What is it?"
"We've identified the destination from the train station footage."
Emma stood.
"Where?"
"Ashford Manor."
Emma looked at the antique key in her hand.
"The same place?"
"Yes."
Collins hesitated.
"But there's a problem."
Emma's stomach tightened.
"What happened?"
"The manor caught fire about forty-five minutes ago."
Emma's blood ran cold.
"Is anyone inside?"
"We don't know yet."
Collins took a slow breath before continuing.
"But firefighters found something in the east wing."
Emma waited.
"It wasn't a body."
"What was it?"
"A hidden underground passage."
Emma stared silently.
Collins' voice dropped almost to a whisper.
"And according to the original blueprints..."
May you like
She paused.
"...the tunnel leads to a room that doesn't officially exist."
