Chapter 2: The Locked Bedroom
Daniel drove home without turning on the radio.
Rain streaked the limousine windows, blurring the city into gray ribbons. Lily sat beside him with her hands folded in her lap, the brass key hidden inside the pocket of her black dress.
Vanessa sat across from them.
Every few minutes, she checked her phone.
Every time she did, Daniel watched her.
Lily noticed because she had spent the last three weeks learning how adults behaved when they thought children weren't paying attention.
They spoke in whispers outside her bedroom.
They stopped talking when she entered a room.
And whenever she asked about Mommy, they suddenly remembered something important they needed to do.
At home, the house smelled of lilies and furniture polish. Funeral arrangements covered the entrance hall, their white petals beginning to curl at the edges.
Daniel loosened his tie.
“Mrs. Brooks will make you something to eat,” he told Lily.
“Then you can rest.””
“I want to go to Mommy's room.””
“No.””
The answer came too quickly.
Lily stared at him.
“Why?””
“Because it's private.””
“But I used to sleep there when I had nightmares.””
“Things are different now.””
“Did you move her things?””
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“Lily, don't make this harder than it already is.””
She looked at Vanessa.
The secretary had removed her gloves. Her fingers were trembling.
“Why can't I go in?”” Lily asked her.
Vanessa's lips parted.
Daniel stepped between them.
“Vanessa has work to do.””
“I'm not asking her. I'm asking you.””
For a moment, Lily thought her father might shout.
Instead, he crouched and placed both hands on her shoulders.
“Listen carefully. Your mother was very ill. She wasn't herself near the end. She may have said things that confused you.””
“She wasn't confused.””
“Lily—”
“She remembered everything. She even remembered where I put my missing tooth.””
Daniel's fingers tightened.
“Enough.””
Lily flinched.
He noticed and immediately released her.
His expression softened, but the softness no longer comforted her.
“Go upstairs,” he said.
“Please.””
Lily climbed the staircase slowly.
At the landing, she stopped beside a framed photograph of her parents on their tenth wedding anniversary. Her mother was laughing, her head tilted against Daniel's shoulder.
Lily remembered that night.
She had been four. She'd woken from a nightmare and wandered downstairs in search of water.
Through the partly open kitchen door, she had heard her mother say, “You promised me, Daniel.””
Her father had answered, “I did what I had to do.””
Then came a sound like a glass breaking.
When Eleanor saw Lily standing in the doorway, she had immediately smiled and opened her arms.
“Come here, my little bird.””
Lily had forgotten the conversation until now.
She continued down the hallway to her bedroom.
Mrs. Brooks, the housekeeper, was waiting with a tray of sandwiches and warm milk.
“Eat something, darling,” the older woman said.
“Mrs. Brooks, is Mommy's room locked?””
The housekeeper's hands stopped moving.
“Why would you ask that?””
“Daddy won't let me go inside.””
Mrs. Brooks glanced toward the stairs.
“Your father asked that nobody enter the room until further notice.””
“Why?””
“I don't know.””
Lily studied her face.
“That's what everyone says when they do know.””
The housekeeper lowered the tray.
For several seconds, she said nothing. Then she crouched in front of Lily and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.
“Your mother loved you more than anything in this world.””
“I know.””
“And whatever happens, don't ever believe that you caused any of this.””
Lily's stomach tightened.
“Why would I cause Mommy to die?””
Mrs. Brooks looked as though she'd been slapped.
“I didn't mean—”
Footsteps sounded on the staircase.
She stood immediately.
“Finish your milk, darling.””
Daniel appeared in the doorway.
“Mrs. Brooks, I need you downstairs.””
“Yes, sir.””
She left without looking at him.
Daniel waited until her footsteps faded.
“Did she say anything to you?””
“About what?””
“Your mother.””
“No.””
He studied Lily for so long that she began to feel cold.
Then he walked to her bedside table and picked up the framed photograph of Eleanor.
“You know,” he said, “sometimes keeping memories is better than holding on to objects.””
Lily watched him place the photograph facedown.
“Sometimes objects tell the truth,” she replied.
Daniel's hand froze.
“Who taught you to say things like that?””
“Mommy.””
He set the photograph down.
“Go to sleep.””
That night, Lily pretended to close her eyes.
At eleven, she heard the front door open.
At eleven fifteen, she heard her father's footsteps cross the hallway.
At eleven twenty, a second set of footsteps followed.
She slipped out of bed and peered through the crack in her door.
Daniel and Vanessa stood outside Eleanor's bedroom.
The door was locked.
Daniel held a ring of keys in his hand, trying one after another.
“It's not there,” Vanessa whispered.
“You said she kept it in the desk.””
“She used to.””
“Then where is it?””
“I don't know, Daniel.””
He struck the door with the heel of his hand.
“Think!””
Vanessa grabbed his wrist.
“Keep your voice down. The staff can hear you.””
He leaned close to her.
“If that key is missing, everything she planned could still happen.””
Vanessa went pale.
“You told me she never found out.””
“She knew enough.””
“Then what are we going to do?””
Daniel looked toward the staircase.
Lily ducked behind her door.
When she peered out again, he was staring directly down the hallway.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “we search every inch of this house.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“And if Lily has it?””
Daniel's voice dropped to a whisper.
“Then we make sure she never finds out what it opens.””
Their footsteps retreated.
Lily waited until the house was silent before slipping her hand into her pocket.
The key was still there.
She crossed the hallway to her mother's door and knelt beside the lock.
It was an old brass lock, the kind Daniel had once complained about replacing because it was too expensive to match the antique wood.
Lily inserted the key.
It turned halfway.
Then stopped.
She tried again, gently.
A tiny click sounded inside the mechanism.
The lock opened.
Lily pushed the door inward.
Her mother's perfume lingered in the darkness, mixed with the faint scent of lavender soap. Moonlight spilled over the bed, the curtains, the dressing table.
Everything looked exactly as it had the morning Eleanor was taken to the hospital.
Except for one thing.
The wardrobe stood open.
And every dress her mother owned was gone.
Lily stepped inside.
On the dressing table sat a small envelope addressed in Eleanor's handwriting.
For Lily, when you are brave enough to open the door.
Her fingers shook as she tore it open.
Inside was a photograph of a man Lily had never seen before, standing beside her mother in front of a yellow house.
On the back, Eleanor had written a date.
It was the day before she died.
And beneath the date were seven words.
*Ask Thomas why your mother was really afraid.*
A floorboard creaked behind Lily.
She turned.
Vanessa stood in the doorway, staring at the photograph.
May you like
“You shouldn't have found that,” she whispered.
Then she reached behind her and locked the bedroom door.
