Chapter 2 - The Room Behind the East Wing
Ethan ran.
Lily followed until he turned and told her to stay with the housekeeper who had just emerged from the kitchen.
Eleanor came after him.
“Ethan, wait.”
He did not.
The east wing had been closed for six weeks because of water damage.
At least that was what Eleanor had told him.
Yet the plastic renovation barrier had been removed.
No dust.
No tools.
No workers.
The first door was locked.
Ethan struck it with his shoulder.
Nothing.
“Where’s the key?”
Eleanor said nothing.
He turned.
“WHERE IS IT?”
She reached into her handbag.
Her hand trembled as she gave him a brass key.
The door opened.
The room beyond was not under renovation.
A bed had been placed beside the window.
Water.
Medicine.
A half-eaten bowl of soup.
And Maria.
She lay weakly beneath a blanket.
Alive.
Ethan crossed the room.
“Maria?”
Her eyes opened.
Fear appeared before recognition.
Then relief.
“Mr. Cole.”
“What happened?”
Maria tried to sit up.
“Lily.”
“She’s safe.”
Her eyes filled immediately.
“Where?”
“Downstairs.”
Maria exhaled.
Then she saw Eleanor.
Her relief disappeared.
Ethan noticed.
“What did she do?”
Maria shook her head.
“Nothing.”
The answer came too quickly.
Eleanor folded her arms.
“She has influenza. I kept her isolated.”
“By locking her in?”
“For Lily’s safety.”
Maria whispered:
“Please.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Please what?”
“Don’t make this worse.”
He stared.
Someone who had been locked in a room was asking him not to free her.
That frightened him more than screaming would have.
A physician arrived twenty minutes later.
Maria did have a fever.
But not influenza.
She was severely dehydrated.
Exhausted.
And her blood pressure was dangerously low.
The doctor recommended hospitalization.
Eleanor objected.
Ethan ignored her.
As paramedics helped Maria onto a stretcher, Lily ran toward her.
“Mommy!”
Maria opened her arms.
Lily buried herself against her.
For several seconds nothing existed except the child sobbing into the woman’s shoulder.
Then Maria whispered something into Lily’s ear.
Ethan did not hear it.
Eleanor did.
Her face changed.
Lily pulled back.
Maria touched her cheek.
“Remember.”
Lily nodded.
The paramedics took Maria away.
Ethan turned toward Eleanor.
“Start talking.”
Eleanor looked exhausted now.
“The folder concerns a legal problem.”
“What claim does Maria have over Lily?”
“It isn’t what you think.”
“I don't know what to think.”
Eleanor looked toward the servants.
“Not here.”
“No. Here.”
Ethan picked up the folder.
“You locked a sick woman in my house. Her four-year-old daughter was cleaning my floor while crying because she was afraid I’d fire her mother. And you have a quarter-million-dollar agreement asking Maria to relinquish some claim involving Lily.”
His voice lowered.
“Tell me why.”
Eleanor stared at him.
Then said:
“Because Maria threatened to take Lily away.”
Ethan frowned.
“Take her where?”
“From us.”
The word hung between them.
Us.
Not from the mansion.
Not from her job.
From us.
Ethan looked at Lily.
The child was sitting on the bottom stair.
Watching.
He lowered his voice.
“Lily is Maria’s daughter.”
Eleanor’s eyes became wet.
“No.”
“What?”
“She raised her.”
“That’s what a mother does.”
“I know.”
Eleanor struggled with the next sentence.
“But she didn’t give birth to her.”
Ethan felt something inside him shift.
“Who did?”
Eleanor did not answer.
Instead she looked toward the blue folder.
Ethan opened it again.
Behind the legal documents was a hospital birth certificate.
The mother’s name had been covered by a rectangular correction label.
He peeled it carefully.
Underneath was another name.
Not Maria Alvarez.
Not Eleanor Cole.
The original mother listed on Lily’s birth record was:
ANNA WHITMORE.
Ethan had never heard the name.
But Lily had.
She suddenly whispered from the staircase:
“Anna is the lady in Mommy’s picture.”
May you like
Maria had kept a photograph hidden for four years.
And apparently, Lily had seen it.
