Chapter 3 - The Story Margaret Built
Margaret did not shout.
That made the confrontation worse.
She walked into the library and gently removed the photograph from Emily's hand.
"You have no right to interrogate my staff."
Mrs. Lewis lowered her eyes.
Emily remained seated.
"Daniel had a sister."
"Yes."
"He never told me."
"That is between you and your husband."
"She disappeared from this house."
Margaret slid the photograph back into the album.
"Twenty-seven years ago."
"Mrs. Lewis says Daniel remembered you threatening Claire near a washing machine."
Mrs. Lewis whispered, "Mrs. Carter, I'm sorry."
Margaret turned toward her.
"Leave."
The housekeeper left immediately.
Emily stood.
"Is it true?"
Margaret closed the album.
"Daniel was eight years old."
"That isn't an answer."
"He was traumatized."
"Did he hear you?"
"He believed he did."
"What does that mean?"
"It means childhood memories are unreliable."
Emily stared at her.
Margaret's expression remained perfectly controlled.
"Claire was difficult."
"She was four."
"She wandered. She hid. She liked making people search for her."
"Four-year-olds do that."
"Exactly."
"So what happened?"
"Nobody knows."
Emily stepped closer.
"Do you?"
Margaret's jaw tightened.
"No."
"Then open the locked room."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I said no."
Emily laughed once.
Margaret's eyes narrowed.
"You find this amusing?"
"No. I find it incredible that you expect me to hear a child disappeared near a room you've kept locked for twenty-seven years and simply stop asking."
Margaret leaned closer.
"You want advice?"
"No."
"I'm giving it anyway. Daniel has spent most of his life trying not to remember that night. You are going to tear open something you do not understand."
"Then tell me what I don't understand."
Margaret looked at her for a long moment.
"Claire was Daniel's weakness."
Emily recoiled.
"She was his sister."
"And he adored her. When she disappeared, he blamed himself."
"Why?"
"Because he was supposed to watch her."
Emily felt another piece click into place.
Margaret continued.
"He left her downstairs. She vanished. For years he believed that if he'd stayed with her, she would still be alive."
"Alive?"
Margaret corrected herself.
"Still with us."
"You think she's dead."
Margaret's face hardened.
"After twenty-seven years?"
"Was a body found?"
"No."
"Then you don't know."
"I know enough."
Emily studied her.
Margaret picked up the album.
"This conversation is over."
It wasn't.
That afternoon Emily called Daniel again.
"Who was Claire?"
Silence.
She heard him inhale.
"Where did you hear that name?"
"Your family albums."
"Emily."
"She was your sister."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Daniel's voice became distant.
"Because there was nothing to tell."
"She disappeared."
"Yes."
"From the mansion."
"Yes."
"Near the laundry room."
Long silence.
"Who told you that?"
"Does it matter?"
"Who?"
"Mrs. Lewis."
Daniel cursed under his breath.
Emily had never heard him speak that way around staff.
"Don't ask her anything else."
"Why?"
"Because she wasn't there when Claire disappeared."
"She says she was."
"She was in the house. She wasn't in the room."
"What room?"
Daniel stopped.
Emily pressed.
"The locked one?"
"I don't remember."
"You do."
"Emily."
"You were eight. You told people you heard Margaret threaten Claire."
Daniel's voice cracked.
"I was a child."
"Did you?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know or you don't want to know?"
Another silence.
Then Daniel said something Emily never expected.
"I used to dream about the washing machine."
She closed her eyes.
"What happened in the dream?"
"My mother standing beside it."
"And Claire?"
"Inside."
Emily gripped the phone.
"Daniel."
"It was a dream."
"Maybe."
"It was a dream."
He sounded like he had repeated that sentence for decades.
"Come home."
"I will."
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
"No. Tonight."
"I can't."
"Your son is sleeping ten rooms away from a locked room connected to your missing sister."
Daniel became quiet.
"I'll get the first flight."
That night Emily moved Noah into her bedroom.
At 2:13 a.m., she woke to find his side of the bed empty.
The door was open.
Emily jumped up.
"Noah?"
She ran into the hall.
No answer.
Downstairs, a faint light glowed from the service corridor.
Emily ran.
Noah stood in front of the locked door.
Barefoot.
Holding a small brass key.
Emily stopped.
"Where did you get that?"
May you like
Noah looked confused.
"It was under my pillow."
