Chapter 3 - Letters From a Dead Woman.
Vanessa waited outside Lily’s locked door for nearly a minute before walking away.
Noah did not move until her footsteps disappeared down the staircase.
The next morning, he pretended nothing had happened.
He ate toast, argued about school, and watched Vanessa over the rim of his orange juice.
She appeared perfectly composed.
Only the fresh strip of medical tape across her right wrist betrayed that something had changed.
Dr. Hale arrived at nine carrying his black leather case.
He examined Lily in the sunroom while Vanessa remained beside the window.
Noah listened from the hallway.
"The voices are becoming more specific," Vanessa told him.
"That can happen when a child reinforces a fantasy," Hale replied.
"She needs something stronger."
Noah felt anger crawl up his throat.
Dr. Hale had treated the Mercer family for years, but Claire had stopped trusting him shortly before the fire.
Noah remembered an argument in the kitchen when Claire told Daniel she wanted a second opinion about Lily’s medication.
Daniel had called it an overreaction.
Two weeks later, Claire was supposedly dead.
When Hale left the sunroom, Noah waited until Vanessa followed him downstairs.
Then he slipped into her private study.
Vanessa kept the room locked, but Noah had watched the housekeeper hide the spare key inside an antique clock months earlier.
His hands shook as he turned it.
The study smelled like cedar, perfume, and fireplace ash.
Nothing looked disturbed.
Noah went straight to the desk.
The top drawer contained stationery, fountain pens, and neatly arranged business cards.
The second held bank documents.
The third was locked.
He used the thin blade from his school multitool and worked the latch until it clicked.
Inside lay a bundle of envelopes tied with blue ribbon.
Every envelope was addressed to Daniel Mercer.
Every return address belonged to Claire.
Noah’s knees nearly gave out.
The earliest letter was dated seven weeks after the funeral.
The latest had been written eleven days ago.
He opened the newest first.
Daniel, if you are reading this, Vanessa has already lied to you about where I am.
Noah stopped and stared at the handwriting.
He knew every slope of his mother’s letters.
Claire had written birthday cards in the same looping blue ink since he could read.
He continued.
The children are not imagining anything, and Lily is being medicated for symptoms she does not have.
Do not trust Marcus Hale.
Do not trust the board.
And please, if you still have any part of the man I married left in you, do not sign another transfer order.
Noah’s mouth went dry.
Transfer order.
He opened another letter.
This one begged Daniel to remember "Room Seven" and warned him that Vanessa was using Hawthorne’s service corridors.
A third mentioned something called Lantern House.
A fourth contained only six words.
You helped them hide me once.
Noah heard the study door click behind him.
He spun around.
Vanessa stood in the doorway.
Her gaze dropped to the letters in his hands.
For the first time since the funeral, her elegant mask disappeared completely.
"Put those down," she said.
Noah backed toward the window.
"She’s alive."
Vanessa closed the door behind her.
"You have no idea what you just found."
Noah shoved the newest letter inside his hoodie.
"I found my mother."
Vanessa’s face became strangely calm again.
Several envelopes had tiny bends along their corners, suggesting Vanessa had opened and reread them instead of simply hiding them away.
Whatever Claire had written was dangerous enough to monitor and personal enough to keep.
May you like
"No," she said.
"You found the reason she disappeared."
