Chapter 3: The Name Buried in the Records
Adeline stared at the photograph until the ink blurred.
Her mother.
The woman she had been told died when she was six.
The woman whose memories existed only in fragments.
A perfume bottle.
A lullaby.
A faded blue scarf.
That was all Adeline had.
And now someone was telling her everything she believed was a lie.
The next morning, she found Thomas near the storage rooms.
“You know something.””
He froze.
“I don’t.””
“You’re lying.””
Thomas looked around.
Then closed the door.
“What did you find?””
Adeline showed him the photograph.
The color disappeared from his face.
“Where did you get this?””
“It was in my room.””
Thomas whispered something she couldn’t hear.
“What?””
He looked at her.
“Your mother’s name.””
Adeline felt her stomach tighten.
“What was it?””
Thomas hesitated.
“Evelyn Croft.””
The name felt familiar.
Too familiar.
“What happened to her?””
Thomas looked toward the hallway.
“Don’t ask me that.””
“Why?””
“Because the last person who asked disappeared.””
Adeline stepped closer.
“Who?””
Thomas didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
The footsteps outside did.
The door opened.
Enzo stood there.
His face revealed nothing.
But his eyes went immediately to the photograph in Adeline’s hand.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Enzo quietly closed the door.
“Where did you get that?””
Adeline held it tighter.
“Why does everyone react like they’ve seen a ghost?””
His jaw tightened.
“Because you have.””
The answer made no sense.
Until he continued.
“Your mother was supposed to be gone.””
Adeline stared at him.
“Supposed to?””
Enzo looked away.
A rare sign that he didn’t have control of the conversation.
“Twenty years ago, Evelyn Croft worked here.””
“As a servant?””
“Yes.””
“And?””
“And she discovered something she shouldn’t have.””
“What?””
Silence.
Adeline stepped closer.
“You know, don’t you?””
Enzo didn’t answer.
That was the answer.
“What happened to her?””
His voice lowered.
“She trusted the wrong person.””
Adeline felt anger replacing fear.
“My entire life, people told me she abandoned me.””
Enzo looked at her.
“She didn’t.””
The words broke something inside her.
Because she had spent years hating someone who might never have left.
“Who lied?””
Before Enzo could respond, the lights in the hallway suddenly went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Then a phone rang.
Not Enzo’s.
Adeline’s.
A number appeared on the screen.
Unknown.
She answered.
A distorted voice spoke.
“Adeline Croft?””
Her blood turned cold.
“Yes?””
A pause.
Then:
“Your mother left you something inside the Marchetti estate.””
The line crackled.
“And Enzo Marchetti has spent twenty years making sure you never find it.””
The call ended.
Adeline slowly lowered the phone.
When she looked up, Enzo was no longer watching her.
He was watching the locked door behind the painting.
The same door she had found earlier.
The door that had never been opened.
Until now.
Because Enzo whispered one sentence.
May you like
A sentence that changed everything.
“She hid it in my father’s room.””
