Chapter 5: The Nursery Had Been Searched
We returned to the mansion under police escort.
Sofia refused to leave Rosie's side, even when the medical team arrived to examine her. She agreed to a preliminary assessment in the mansion's sunroom, where the tall windows let in afternoon light and Emma could stay beside Rosie.
Officer Daniels insisted that the property be treated as a potential crime scene.
"Nobody touches anything in the nursery until my team photographs it," she said as we reached the second-floor landing.
"If your cousin has been inside, we need to document what he disturbed.""
I nodded.
The nursery door stood at the end of the hallway, painted pale yellow with tiny white stars. I had designed the room with Sofia before Rosie was born.
A small wooden rocking horse sat beside the bookcase. Children's drawings covered the wall. A faded photograph of Sofia holding our newborn daughter stood on the dresser.
For two years, I had barely entered the room.
Sofia stopped at the threshold.
Her breathing quickened.
"I can't believe it's still here.""
I touched her shoulder.
"I couldn't change it.""
She looked at me, and something softened in her expression.
"You kept her room exactly the same?""
"I kept everything I could.""
Rosie ran toward the window seat, then stopped when an officer gently asked her to wait.
"That's where Mommy hid it," she said.
Daniels' team photographed the room before examining the furniture. One officer checked the window locks while another documented the dresser drawers.
Then a young detective crouched beside the window seat.
"There's damage here.""
A narrow strip of wood had been pried loose beneath the cushion. The edge was splintered, and tiny chips lay scattered across the carpet.
Someone had searched the hiding place.
My stomach dropped.
"Is the card gone?"" Sofia asked.
The detective lifted the loose panel with a gloved hand.
The compartment was empty.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Sofia pressed both palms against her mouth.
"No.""
I knelt beside the window seat, examining the splintered wood.
"Could Marcus have taken it?""
"Possibly," Daniels said.
"But we can't assume he was the only person with access.""
"Who else knew about this room?""
Sofia stared at the photograph on the dresser.
"Vivienne. She helped decorate it when Rosie was born.""
I remembered that period. Vivienne had visited frequently, bringing gifts and insisting that Sofia rest while she organized the nursery.
She'd known the layout of our home long before Sofia disappeared.
"Could she have found the card before she was taken?"" I asked.
Sofia shook her head.
"I hid it after I discovered the forged signatures. The next day, I disappeared.""
Daniels examined the empty compartment.
"Then we need to establish whether the card was removed today or earlier.""
A detective approached from the doorway.
"Ma'am, there's something else.""
He showed Daniels a photograph on his phone. The image displayed the nursery's exterior window, taken from the garden below.
A small black device was attached to the outer frame.
"Security camera?"" I asked.
"No," he replied.
"It's a wireless transmitter. Our technical team is examining it.""
Sofia went pale.
"They've been watching the house.""
The detective nodded.
"We can't yet establish how long it's been there or who installed it.""
I looked at the transmitter.
Someone had known where Sofia's evidence was hidden.
Someone had known we would return to the nursery.
And someone might have been watching us search for it.
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
The message contained a single photograph.
Sofia, standing beside the chapel's white door.
The picture had been taken from inside the corridor, only hours earlier.
Beneath it were seven words.
*You found her. Now stop asking questions.*
I showed Daniels.
Her expression hardened.
"Don't respond. We'll preserve the message and trace what we can.""
Before she could take my phone, another message arrived.
This one showed Rosie asleep in her bedroom.
The photograph had been taken through the slightly open doorway.
I felt every muscle in my body lock.
Emma had been sitting with Rosie only minutes earlier.
I rushed into the adjoining bedroom.
Rosie was still there, awake now, clutching her bunny. Emma stood beside her, checking the corridor.
"What happened?"" Emma asked.
I showed her the photograph.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
"Someone was in here?""
"We don't know when it was taken.""
I checked the door, the closet, and the bathroom. There was nobody inside. The windows were locked from within.
But the curtains were moving slightly in the air-conditioning.
I looked at the ceiling vent.
A thin black wire disappeared through the metal grille.
"Get Rosie out of this room," I said.
Emma lifted my daughter into her arms.
"Where are we going?""
"Somewhere without windows.""
Sofia appeared in the doorway, moving slowly but determinedly.
"Adrian, they want you frightened. That's how they control people.""
I looked at her.
"They photographed our daughter while she slept.""
"I know.""
"They've been inside our home.""
"I know.""
"Then how am I supposed to stay calm?""
Sofia stepped close enough to touch my cheek.
"By remembering what they want.""
Her eyes were exhausted, but clear.
"They want you to react before you think. They want you to accuse the wrong person, destroy evidence, and give them a reason to say you're dangerous.""
I closed my eyes briefly.
She was right.
And the fact that she had to remind me of it after everything she'd endured made me ashamed.
Officer Daniels ordered a full sweep of the mansion. The family was moved to the central drawing room, a bright space with reinforced doors and direct access to the guarded courtyard.
My security chief, Raymond Cole, arrived twenty minutes later.
He was fifty, disciplined, and had served my family for fifteen years.
"Sir," he said, "we checked the perimeter. No forced entry. The service gate was opened with an authorized access card.""
"Whose card?""
"Your cousin's.""
"Was it used anywhere else?""
Raymond hesitated.
"Yes. The chapel corridor. The nursery wing. And the private garage.""
Sofia gripped the arm of her chair.
"Marcus had access to everything.""
I turned to Raymond.
"Disable his credentials. Freeze all remote access. Nobody enters or leaves this property without Daniels' approval.""
"Understood.""
As he turned away, Sofia called him back.
"Raymond?""
He stopped.
"Did you know about the care facility beneath the chapel?""
His face changed.
It was subtle—a tightening around the eyes, a slight pause before he answered.
"No, ma'am.""
Sofia studied him.
"Are you sure?""
"Absolutely.""
She lowered her gaze.
I noticed the way his right hand curled into a fist.
After Raymond left, I sat beside Sofia.
"Do you think he's involved?""
"I don't know.""
"Then why did you ask him?""
"Because when I was being moved between facilities, one of the men guarding me had a tattoo on his wrist.""
She described a small black compass surrounded by three dots.
Raymond had the same tattoo.
I stared at her.
"You're sure?""
"I saw it every time he handed me a cup of water. He never spoke, but I recognized his voice when he called the nurse.""
The drawing room door opened.
Raymond stood on the other side, holding a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a small silver key.
"We found this in the private garage," he said.
"It was taped beneath Marcus's driver's seat.""
Sofia stared at it.
Then she began shaking her head.
"That's not possible.""
I took a step toward Raymond.
"Why?""
Sofia pointed at the key.
"Because that opens the cabinet where they kept my medication.""
Nobody spoke.
Raymond's expression remained unreadable.
Then his phone rang.
He checked the screen and answered.
"Yes?""
He listened for a few seconds.
His face drained of color.
"Sir," he said, lowering the phone, "the police have located Marcus's vehicle.""
"Where?""
"At the airport.""
"Did they find him?""
Raymond shook his head.
"No. But they found something on the passenger seat.""
He turned the phone toward me.
The photograph showed a cream-colored envelope bearing my name.
May you like
Across the front, written in black marker, were five words.
*Ask your father about Sofia.*
