Chapter 5: The Locked Room in the Whitmore Mansion
The Whitmore mansion stood behind iron gates on the outskirts of the city.
I had seen photographs of it in magazines.
A sprawling stone house surrounded by manicured gardens, with tall windows, white columns, and a fountain shaped like a pair of swans.
I had never imagined I would walk through its front doors.
Especially not carrying a diaper bag and holding my six-month-old daughter.
Eleanor insisted that we come the following morning.
Daniel wanted to stay away.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the letter.
If Richard had written something specifically for me, I needed to know what it said.
When we arrived, a housekeeper opened the door.
"Mrs. Whitmore.""
Eleanor nodded.
"Good morning, Helen.""
The housekeeper looked at me.
For a moment, her eyes widened.
Then she quickly looked away.
"Would you like me to prepare breakfast?""
"Not now," Eleanor replied.
"I need the keys to Richard's study.""
Helen hesitated.
"Mr. Victor instructed me not to let anyone enter that room.""
Eleanor's expression hardened.
"Victor doesn't own this house.""
Helen lowered her eyes.
"Yes, ma'am.""
She disappeared down the hallway.
Daniel leaned toward me.
"Something feels wrong.""
"I know.""
He looked at Lily.
"Stay close to me.""
A few moments later, Helen returned with a brass key.
Eleanor took it.
"Thank you.""
We climbed the grand staircase.
The walls were covered with family portraits.
There were photographs of Richard and Eleanor at charity events, business openings, and vacations.
Then I saw one that stopped me.
A little girl sat on a white rocking horse.
She wore a pink dress and had dark hair tied with two ribbons.
I recognized her immediately.
It was me.
I reached toward the frame.
"How old was I?""
"Three," Eleanor whispered.
I stared at the photograph.
There was something strangely painful about seeing evidence of a childhood I couldn't remember.
A life where someone had bought me dresses.
Where someone had taken photographs of my birthday.
Where someone had known exactly how I liked my sandwiches cut.
Daniel touched my shoulder.
"Ready?""
I nodded.
The study was at the end of the hallway.
Eleanor unlocked the door.
The room smelled of leather, old paper, and cedarwood.
A massive desk stood beneath a window.
Bookshelves covered three walls.
A framed photograph of Richard and me sat beside a silver clock.
Eleanor picked it up.
"He used to sit here every night and look at this picture.""
I moved toward the desk.
"Where would he keep the letter?""
"Richard had a habit of hiding important things in places nobody would think to look.""
She opened a drawer.
Inside were old business documents, fountain pens, and several envelopes.
Nothing.
Daniel examined the bookshelves.
"Maybe there's a safe.""
I noticed a small wooden cabinet beneath the window.
Its handle was shaped like a bird.
I opened it.
Inside was a collection of children's drawings.
One showed a house with three people standing outside.
A woman.
A man.
A little girl holding a silver heart.
Beneath it, in uneven handwriting, were the words:
My family.
My throat tightened.
I picked up the drawing.
At the bottom was a date.
It had been made two days before I disappeared.
"Look at this," I whispered.
Eleanor took it.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"That's your handwriting.""
I looked at the little girl in the drawing.
"Why can't I remember any of this?""
"Because you were very young.""
She carefully placed it back.
Then she noticed something behind the wooden cabinet.
A narrow panel.
She pressed it.
A small compartment opened.
Inside was a leather-bound notebook and a sealed envelope.
My heart began pounding.
The envelope had my name written across it.
*To Emily. When she is old enough to understand.*
I reached for it.
But before my fingers touched the paper, a voice came from the doorway.
"Put that down.""
Victor stood there.
Two security guards were behind him.
Eleanor spun around.
"How dare you come into this room?""
Victor stepped inside.
"I could ask you the same thing.""
"This is my husband's study.""
"And I'm responsible for protecting the family's property.""
He looked at the envelope.
"Give it to me.""
"No," I said.
Victor stared at me.
"Emily, I suggest you think carefully.""
"It's addressed to me.""
"It may contain confidential family information.""
"Then I'll read it.""
Victor extended his hand.
"Now.""
Daniel moved in front of me.
"She's not giving you anything.""
Victor nodded toward the guards.
One of them approached Daniel.
Eleanor raised her voice.
"Nobody touches him!""
The guard stopped.
Victor sighed.
"You're making a scene.""
"You have no right to take that letter.""
Victor looked at Eleanor.
"You know perfectly well why it cannot be opened.""
Her face went pale.
I turned toward her.
"What does he mean?""
Neither answered.
I looked at the envelope again.
There was a second line written in Richard's handwriting.
If Victor is still controlling the family when Emily returns, do not trust anything he says.
I felt a chill move down my spine.
I picked up the envelope and tucked it inside my blouse.
Victor's expression darkened.
"Give it back.""
"No.""
He took one step toward me.
Then Eleanor stood between us.
"She's leaving.""
Victor looked at her.
"You're choosing her over your own family?""
Eleanor's voice trembled.
"She is my family.""
We walked out of the study.
But as we reached the staircase, I heard Victor speaking to someone on his phone.
His voice was low.
Urgent.
"She found the letter.""
A pause.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
"No. We can't let her read it. Not if she discovers what happened to the real Emily.""
I stopped walking.
Daniel turned toward me.
"What?""
I looked back at Victor.
May you like
The real Emily.
Then who was I?
