Chapter 7: Someone Had Been Watching My Daughter
Daniel reached Lily's crib before I could even process the photograph.
He lifted her carefully, checked her blanket, then examined the window.
"Emily, call the police.""
I couldn't move.
The photograph on my phone showed Lily sleeping in her crib. The angle was impossible unless someone had been standing inside our apartment.
Someone had been watching her.
Someone had been close enough to touch her.
"Emily!"" Daniel shouted.
I finally grabbed my phone and dialed emergency services.
Within minutes, two police officers arrived. They inspected the apartment, checked the locks, and examined the windows.
There were no signs of forced entry.
One officer crouched beside the crib.
"Has anyone besides you two had access to this apartment?""
"No," Daniel answered.
"Nobody.""
"Do you have security cameras?""
I shook my head.
We couldn't afford them.
The officer wrote something in his notebook.
"Do you recognize the number that sent the photograph?""
"No.""
"Have you received any threats recently?""
I looked at Daniel.
He hesitated.
Then I told the officers everything.
The bracelet.
Eleanor.
Victor.
The letter.
And the phone call from Margaret.
When I mentioned Victor's name, the older officer stopped writing.
"Victor Whitmore?""
"Yes.""
He exchanged a glance with his colleague.
"Is there a problem?"" I asked.
"Nothing we can discuss right now. But I would strongly recommend that you and your family stay somewhere secure tonight.""
Daniel looked at me.
"Somewhere secure?""
I thought about Eleanor's mansion.
Then I remembered Victor standing in that study, demanding the letter.
"No," I said.
"Not the Whitmore house.""
The officer nodded.
"That's your decision. But don't ignore this threat.""
After they left, Daniel packed a bag for Lily.
I stood in the kitchen, staring at the photograph.
"How did he get inside?""
Daniel zipped the bag.
"Maybe someone copied our keys.""
"Who?""
He didn't answer.
Then he looked at me.
"Emily, there's something I need to tell you.""
My stomach tightened.
"What?""
"Three weeks ago, someone came to the hotel asking about you.""
I stared at him.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"I didn't think it mattered.""
"Daniel.""
He rubbed his face.
"It was a man in a dark suit. He asked whether you visited me regularly. He knew Lily's name. He also knew where we lived.""
"Did you recognize him?""
"No. But he gave me an envelope.""
Daniel walked to the bedroom and returned with a small white envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of me leaving the diner with Lily.
On the back were four words.
*Keep your family quiet.*
My knees weakened.
"You knew about this?""
"I thought it was some kind of warning from someone connected to the hotel. I was afraid I'd lose my job.""
I stared at him.
"And you said nothing?""
"I'm sorry.""
I wanted to be angry.
I was angry.
But I could see the fear in his eyes.
He had been trying to protect the little life we had built.
Unfortunately, someone had already found a way inside it.
"We're going to find Margaret," I said.
Daniel nodded.
"And we're going to find out who that man was.""
We left the apartment before midnight.
Eleanor arranged for us to stay in a private guesthouse owned by an old family friend. She promised there would be security around the property.
I didn't fully trust her.
But I trusted that she wanted Lily safe.
The following morning, Eleanor arrived carrying a box of old documents.
She looked exhausted.
"Have you heard from Margaret?"" she asked.
I shook my head.
"She called once. Then the call was cut off.""
Eleanor placed the box on the table.
"These are the records I kept after you disappeared. I thought they might help.""
I opened it.
There were police reports, newspaper clippings, photographs, and letters.
At the bottom was a brown folder labeled:
*MARGARET BELL — PERSONAL HISTORY.*
I opened it.
Inside was an employment application, an old identification card, and a photograph of Margaret standing beside a little boy.
The boy looked about five years old.
His dark eyes reminded me of mine.
On the back of the photograph was a name.
*Thomas Bell.*
I looked at Eleanor.
"Who is he?""
She studied the picture.
"I don't know. I've never seen this child before.""
"Margaret told me to find Thomas.""
Eleanor sat down.
"Then perhaps he's the child Richard mentioned.""
Daniel examined the photograph.
"Could he be her second child?""
"Possibly," I answered.
I turned the photograph over again.
There was a handwritten date.
It was taken eleven years ago.
If Thomas was Margaret's child, he would be around sixteen now.
Eleanor reached into the folder and pulled out another document.
A payment record.
It showed regular transfers from a Whitmore family trust to an organization called the St. Agnes Children's Home.
The payments had started twenty-two years ago.
And they had continued until just three months earlier.
"Why would the family trust be paying an orphanage?"" Daniel asked.
Eleanor stared at the document.
"I don't know.""
I noticed a signature at the bottom.
Victor Whitmore.
My phone suddenly vibrated.
A message from the unknown number.
*St. Agnes. Ask for Thomas. But don't tell them you're Margaret's daughter.*
I showed it to Eleanor.
Her eyes widened.
"Emily, we need to be careful.""
"Why?""
She looked at the payment records.
"Because Victor has been funding that place for twenty-two years.""
Daniel picked up the photograph.
"Maybe Thomas knows where Margaret is.""
I looked at the little boy's face.
Then I noticed something strange.
Around his wrist was a silver bracelet.
Not the heart-shaped one I had.
A different one.
It had a small engraved star.
I turned the photograph toward Eleanor.
"Do you recognize this?""
She stared at it.
Then she began trembling.
"That bracelet...""
"What?""
Eleanor covered her mouth.
"It belonged to Richard's first child.""
I frowned.
"First child?""
She looked at me.
May you like
And whispered:
"Before you were born, Richard and I had a son.""
