“The owl said, ‘Some lights follow us because they are trying to lead us home.’”
Emilia covered her mouth.
Gabriel had invented that story during the twins’ first winter. It had never been published or written down. He had told it only to Emilia and the girls, changing the details each night but always ending with the same sentence.
Some lights follow us because they are trying to lead us home.
Victor seized Daniel by the shoulder.
“Who paid you?”
Daniel pulled away.
“No one.”
“Who told you that story?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect us to believe that?”
“I said I don’t know!”
The sudden anger silenced the room.
Daniel looked frightened by his own voice.
He pressed both hands against his temples.
“I see things sometimes,” he said. “A blue nursery. Two wooden cradles. Rain on glass. A woman singing badly and pretending she isn’t.”
Emilia felt tears burn her eyes.
Gabriel had always teased her about her singing.
Victor turned toward the guests.
“The celebration is over. Everyone must leave.”
No one moved.
“Now!”
Staff members began guiding the visitors toward the exits. Conversations erupted in low, excited whispers. Within minutes, the grand hall emptied until only the family, several servants and Daniel remained.
Victor locked the front doors.
Emilia watched him.
“Why are you locking us in?”
“To keep that man from escaping.”
Daniel’s shoulders stiffened.
“I haven’t committed a crime.”
“That remains to be determined.”
Emilia approached Daniel slowly.
“Look at me.”
He did.
His eyes were gray.
Gabriel’s eyes had also been gray, but that alone proved nothing. Millions of people had gray eyes. Scars, exhaustion and seven missing years had altered the stranger’s face.
Yet Emilia recognized something deeper than bone structure.
She recognized the way he looked at her when he was afraid.
“Gabriel?” she whispered.
Daniel shook his head.
“My name is Daniel.”
“Who gave you that name?”
“The hospital.”
“Which hospital?”
“Saint Orison Rehabilitation Center.”
Victor’s face changed for only an instant.
It was a tiny reaction—a tightening near the mouth, a sudden stillness in his shoulders—but Emilia saw it.
She had built an international company by noticing what other people missed.
“You know that place,” she said.
Victor recovered quickly.
“I know hundreds of medical institutions.”
“You reacted to the name.”
“I reacted because this entire performance is absurd.”
Daniel reached into his jacket.
Victor immediately stepped back.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
“I’m not armed.”
Daniel removed a small brass key attached to a faded red string.
“I woke up with this around my neck.”
Emilia stared at it.
She knew the key.
It opened the narrow drawer inside Gabriel’s antique writing desk.
The desk was still in the west library, exactly where it had stood on the day he disappeared.
Emilia took the key from Daniel.
“Come with me.”
Victor blocked her path.
“You are not going anywhere with him.”
“This is my house.”
“I am trying to protect you.”
“Then move.”
Something in her voice made him obey.
They crossed the dark corridor toward the west wing. The twins followed closely, one on each side of Daniel. Victor came behind them.
Grant House had once belonged to Emilia’s grandfather. After Gabriel’s death, she had closed several rooms, unable to tolerate the memories inside them. The west library had remained untouched for seven years.
Dust rested on the shelves. White sheets covered the chairs. The fireplace smelled of cold stone.
Gabriel’s desk stood near the windows.
Emilia inserted the brass key into the hidden drawer.
It opened.
Inside lay a leather notebook, an old voice recorder and a sealed envelope bearing Emilia’s name.
She looked at Daniel.
“Did you put these here?”
“I’ve never been in this room.”
Victor moved forward.
“We should give everything to the police.”
Emilia picked up the recorder.
“We will.”
She pressed the play button.
For several seconds there was only static.
Then Gabriel’s voice filled the library.
“Emilia, if you are hearing this, I was right to be afraid.”
Daniel gripped the edge of the desk.
The twins stared at the recorder.
The voice continued.
“Someone inside Grant Technologies has been moving money through the children’s medical foundation. The records point toward Victor Hale, but he cannot be acting alone. I am taking the evidence to the federal investigators tomorrow morning. Until then, I trust no one.”
Emilia slowly turned toward Victor.
He looked almost bored.
“A recording can be manufactured.”
The message continued.
“If anything happens to me, search the old observatory. The proof is hidden where we watched the winter eclipse.”
A click ended the recording.
Victor reached for the device, but Emilia pulled it away.