Chapter 3 - Whispers in the Library
The family physician arrived within twenty minutes, declaring Lily physically unharmed aside from mild shock and a swallowed gulp of pool water. After prescribing rest and a warm drink, the doctor was escorted out by the head butler, leaving an oppressive silence in the main hall. Ethan retreated to his private library, leaving the heavy oak doors slightly ajar as he poured himself a glass of bourbon with a hand that still shook.
Claire stepped into the library quietly, her emerald dress rustling against the Persian rug. She didn't approach the desk directly, opting instead to stand near the marble fireplace, her posture carefully constructed to project vulnerability. She spoke in low, breathless tones, explaining that it had been a terrible misunderstanding—that she had merely stepped forward to catch Lily when the child slipped on the wet stone, and that her foot had accidentally made contact with Lily's back.
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Ethan raised his eyes, looking at her through the amber liquid in his crystal glass. The fury from the poolside had settled into a cold, impenetrable wall. He reminded her of the words he had heard through the open doors just before he dove into the water—words that no loving mother or stepmother would ever utter to a terrified child. Claire’s lips parted, a momentary fracture appearing in her flawless composure before she quickly recovered, claiming her words were born of frustration because Lily spent all her time obsessing over a ghost instead of moving forward.
Hidden in the alcove just outside the library doors, Lily stood barefoot on the cold floor, listening to every word. Her small thumb repeatedly traced the sharp edges of the microchip inside the locket hanging beneath her collar. She didn't care about Claire’s lies or her father’s anger; she was waiting for a specific name to be mentioned—a name that had been encrypted inside the files her mother had hidden before her mysterious death three years ago.
