CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 2
THE WOMAN IN THE PORTRAIT
For three seconds after the lights returned, nobody moved.
Then Victor shouted:
“Lock every door!”
The house came alive.
Footsteps thundered through the corridors.
Two security guards rushed in from the west wing.
Another ran toward the staircase.
Graves remained where he was, staring at the empty space where Serena had stood.
I was still on the floor with Ethan in my arms.
His face was pale.
“Please,” I whispered. “Someone help him.”
Victor dropped beside us.
“Is he breathing?”
“Yes.”
“Ethan?”
The little boy's eyelids fluttered.
“Daddy…”
Victor's expression broke.
“I'm here.”
Ethan's fingers curled around his father's sleeve.
Then his eyes closed again.
Victor looked at the guards.
“Call the ambulance.”
One of them immediately reached for his radio.
Graves stepped forward.
“I'll bring the medical kit.”
“No,” Victor said.
Graves stopped.
Victor looked at him.
“Stay here.”
The old butler nodded.
But I noticed his eyes move toward the staircase.
He was listening.
Waiting.
As if he expected someone else to appear.
I did too.
Because Serena hadn't simply disappeared.
She had known where to go.
She had known when the lights would fail.
And she had known that recording existed.
That meant someone had helped her.
Someone inside the house.
The ambulance arrived eight minutes later.
It felt like an hour.
The paramedics carefully immobilized Ethan's arm.
One of them looked at me.
“Were you assaulted too?”
I nodded.
“Can you walk?”
“I think so.”
“Then we'll check you at the hospital.”
Victor climbed into the ambulance with Ethan.
Before the doors closed, he looked at me.
“Come with us.”
I nodded.
Then I looked back at the manor.
Graves was standing beneath the staircase.
Completely still.
His eyes were fixed on the portrait.
Eleanor Blackwood.
She was smiling.
But there was something about the painting now that I couldn't ignore.
Something wrong.
Something I had seen a hundred times without noticing.
I stared at her left hand.
She was wearing a ring.
A small silver ring with a black stone.
I had never seen it before.
And yet I suddenly remembered something.
The same ring had appeared in the recording.
On Serena's hand.
At the hospital, Ethan was taken into surgery.
I sat beside Victor in the waiting room.
Neither of us spoke.
Finally he said:
“You were telling the truth.”
I looked at him.
“I never lied.”
“I know.”
“You believed her.”
He closed his eyes.
“For a second.”
“A second was enough.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
I looked at the blood on my dress.
“She wanted me blamed.”
“Yes.”
“She wanted Ethan blamed.”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He didn't answer.
I knew he was thinking about the recording.
The trust.
The second child.
Eleanor.
His dead father.
Serena.
Everything was connected.
But we didn't yet know how.
A doctor approached.
“Mr. Blackwood?”
Victor stood.
“Yes?”
“Your son is stable.”
Victor exhaled.
“The fracture was severe, but we were able to repair it.”
“Can I see him?”
“In a few minutes.”
Victor nodded.
The doctor looked at me.
“You should have your injuries examined as well.”
“I will.”
Then she left.
Victor sat back down.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Eleanor was pregnant when she died.”
I stared at him.
“I thought Ethan was born before she died.”
“He was.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Victor looked at the floor.
“I don't know.”
We returned to Blackwood Manor after midnight.
Ethan remained in the hospital overnight.
I wanted to stay.
But Victor insisted there were things we needed to understand before morning.
The police had searched the property.
They found no sign of Serena.
No broken windows.
No forced doors.
No evidence she had left through the front entrance.
Which meant she had escaped through one of the hidden passages.
Victor stood in the foyer.
“Where would she go?”
Graves answered:
“She knows the house better than most.”
Victor turned.
“Not better than you.”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
Graves hesitated.
“There are passages beneath the east wing.”
Victor stared.
“Why didn't I know about them?”
“Your father had them built.”
“For what?”
“Security.”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“Security?”
He looked around.
“People have been disappearing inside this house.”
Graves lowered his eyes.
“Not disappearing.”
“Hiding.”
Victor stepped closer.
“Who?”
The butler said nothing.
I looked at the portrait.
“Eleanor.”
Both men turned toward me.
“I think we should look behind that painting.”
Victor frowned.
“Why?”
“The recording.”
“What about it?”
“Serena mentioned the trust.”
“And?”
“Then Graves mentioned Eleanor.”
I pointed toward the portrait.
“She left something.”
Victor stared at the painting.
Then walked toward it.
He touched the frame.
Nothing happened.
He pressed the wall.
Nothing.
Graves stepped forward.
“May I?”
Victor moved aside.
Graves examined the frame.
Then reached behind the painting.
His fingers found something.
A small metal switch.
He pressed it.
The portrait moved.
I gasped.
Behind it was a narrow compartment.
Victor stared into the darkness.
“What is that?”
Graves whispered:
“The room your father never wanted you to find.”
Victor took a flashlight.
We stepped inside.
The room was small.
Dust covered everything.
There was a desk.
An old chair.
A locked cabinet.
And dozens of photographs.
I walked toward them.
The first photograph showed Eleanor.
Young.
Pregnant.
The second showed her holding Ethan.
The third—
I stopped.
It showed two babies.
Two.
Not one.
They were lying side by side in a hospital nursery.
One had a white bracelet.
The other had a blue bracelet.
Victor took the photograph from my hand.
His fingers began to shake.
“No.”
Graves stood behind us.
Victor turned.
“Explain.”
The butler said nothing.
Victor held up the photograph.
“Explain!”
Graves finally spoke.
“Eleanor gave birth to twins.”
Victor stared at him.
“Twins?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't I know?”
“Because your father ordered the records changed.”
Victor looked at the babies.
“Where is the other child?”
Graves lowered his head.
“I don't know.”
Victor grabbed him.
“You told me you knew everything.”
“I knew what your father allowed me to know.”
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You saw them.”
“Yes.”
“Then where is my son?”
Graves's voice broke.
“I thought he was dead.”
Victor released him.
“What happened?”
The old butler looked at the photograph.
“Your father took him.”
“Why?”
“Because of the inheritance.”
Victor's eyes hardened.
“What inheritance?”
Graves pointed toward the locked cabinet.
“Open it.”
Victor tried the handle.
Locked.
Graves removed a small key from his pocket.
Victor stared at him.
“You had the key all these years?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was waiting.”
“For what?”
Graves looked at me.
“For someone to find the truth without being killed for it.”
The cabinet opened.
Inside was a stack of documents.
Birth certificates.
Medical records.
Letters.
And one envelope.
Victor picked it up.
His name was written on the front.
In Eleanor's handwriting.
He stared at it for a long time.
Then opened it.
I watched his eyes move across the page.
His face changed.
“What does it say?”
Victor didn't answer.
“Victor?”
He handed me the letter.
My hands trembled as I read.
Victor,
If you are reading this, then I failed to protect our children.
Your father knows about the twins. He believes only one child can inherit the Blackwood estate.
He has already made arrangements for the second baby to disappear.
Do not trust anyone who tells you our second child died.
He did not die.
I know because I saw him after he was taken.
He was alive.
And someone in this house helped your father hide him.
The letter ended there.
No name.
No explanation.
Just one final sentence.
Ask the butler who carried the baby out.
I looked at Graves.
He was crying.
Victor slowly turned toward him.
“Did you carry him?”
Graves nodded.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I was ordered to take him to the east gate.”
“And then?”
“I gave him to a man waiting in a black car.”
“Who?”
Graves closed his eyes.
“I never saw his face.”
Victor's voice became desperate.
“Where did he take my son?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how do you know he lived?”
Graves reached into his coat.
He pulled out another photograph.
This one was older.
A child.
Maybe three years old.
Standing beside a woman.
The boy had Victor's eyes.
Victor stared.
“Who is that?”
Graves whispered:
“Your son.”
Victor touched the photograph.
“Where was this taken?”
“Three years after Eleanor died.”
Victor's breathing became uneven.
“Who is the woman?”
Graves hesitated.
“I don't know.”
I took the photograph.
The woman was standing beside the child.
Her face was partly hidden.
But there was one thing I could see clearly.
A silver ring with a black stone.
The same ring.
The one Serena had worn in the recording.
I looked at Victor.
“Victor…”
He stared at the photograph.
“No.”
The woman turned slightly toward the camera.
Her face became clearer.
I felt the blood drain from mine.
It was Serena.
But the photograph was dated—
Two years before Victor met her.
Victor stepped backward.
“No.”
He looked at Graves.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You suspected?”
“I didn't know for certain.”
Victor's voice shook.
“Serena was with my son before she ever met me.”
Graves nodded.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
Victor stared at the photograph.
Then he noticed something else.
The boy was wearing a small silver bracelet.
On it was engraved a single letter.
E.
Victor whispered:
“Evan.”
Graves nodded.
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“Who is Evan?”
The butler stared at me.
Then at Victor.
And quietly answered:
“The name your father gave the child after he stole him.”
Victor's eyes filled with tears.
“My son.”
“Yes.”
“Evan Blackwood.”
Graves nodded.
“Your second son.”
A sound came from the hallway.
We all turned.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Someone was walking toward us.
Victor reached for the gun hidden beneath his jacket.
The footsteps stopped.
Then a woman's voice came through the darkness.
“You're finally asking the right questions.”
Victor froze.
“Serena?”
No answer.
The woman laughed softly.
Then the lights inside the hidden room went out.
The door slammed shut.
I heard Victor shout.
Then—
A whisper came from directly behind me.
“Eleanor never had twins.”
I turned.
Nobody was there.
The voice continued:
“She had three children.”
May you like
The hidden room filled with darkness.
And somewhere beyond the wall, a lock clicked into place.
