Chapter 2 - The Funeral That Never Happened
Silas had imagined hearing his name from Mallory a thousand times.
He had imagined it whispered against his chest, shouted across a crowded room, or spoken through tears when she finally recognized him.
He had never imagined it sounding like a question.
“Silas?”
He nodded.
“I'm here, sweetheart.”
Mallory stared at him as though she were looking at a ghost that had somehow learned to breathe.
Then she began shaking her head.
“No. You can't be here.”
“I know this is difficult.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
She looked toward the service door.
Her expression changed instantly.
Fear.
Not confusion. Not surprise.
Fear of someone listening.
“Please,” she whispered. “You have to leave.”
Silas felt his jaw tighten.
“I'm not leaving without you.”
“You have to!”
Her voice cracked so violently that he stopped speaking.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor.
Mallory's entire body stiffened.
“Get up,” she whispered urgently. “Please, Silas. Just go.”
A woman in a burgundy evening dress appeared at the end of the hallway.
She was tall, blonde, and perhaps forty-five. A diamond necklace rested against her collarbone. Her expression was elegant irritation until her eyes landed on Mallory.
“What are you doing?”
Mallory immediately lowered her head.
“I'm sorry, Mrs. Dain. I was finishing the floor.”
The woman looked at Silas.
“And who are you?”
“Silas Keene.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Recognition flickered across her face.
Then she smiled.
“Walter's guest.”
“That's right.”
She glanced at Mallory.
“Why is this woman bothering you?”
Silas looked down at his wife.
“She's my wife.”
The hallway became completely silent.
The woman's smile disappeared.
Mallory closed her eyes.
“No,” the woman said quietly.
Silas stood.
“Excuse me?”
“I think you've made a mistake.”
“I rarely make mistakes about my wife.”
The woman stepped closer.
“Mr. Keene, I suggest you return to the ballroom. This employee has a history of emotional instability.”
Mallory's fingers tightened around the cleaning rag.
Silas noticed.
He noticed everything.
“What's your name?”
“Vivienne Dain.”
“Then listen carefully, Vivienne. Nobody in this house speaks about my wife as though she's a defective piece of furniture.”
Vivienne's cheeks flushed.
“Your wife?”
She gave a short, humorless laugh.
“That's an interesting story.”
Before Silas could respond, she turned toward Mallory.
“Upstairs. Now.”
Mallory immediately pushed herself to her feet.
Silas moved between them.
“She isn't going anywhere.”
Vivienne's expression hardened.
“Walter will be very interested in this.”
“Good. Tell him I want to see him.”
For a moment, neither woman nor man moved.
Then Vivienne turned and walked away.
Silas waited until her footsteps disappeared.
He looked at Mallory.
“Come with me.”
She stared at the floor.
“I can't.”
“You can.”
“You don't understand what happens when I disobey.”
His anger rose so quickly that he almost couldn't speak.
“What happens?”
Mallory shook her head.
“Please don't make me explain.”
Silas looked at her wrists.
There were faint bruises beneath the cuffs of her uniform.
His gaze moved to her hands. Several fingernails were broken. A thin scar crossed the back of her left hand.
He wanted names.
He wanted explanations.
He wanted to find whoever had done this and make sure they never touched another human being again.
But Mallory was standing in front of him, and the last thing she needed was another man losing control around her.
So he swallowed his anger.
“Okay. We don't have to talk about it now.”
She finally looked at him.
“You really are alive?”
“Yes.”
“I saw your funeral.”
“Tell me about it.”
Her lips trembled.
“They showed me photographs. Your car had exploded. They said you were driving home after leaving a meeting.”
Silas frowned.
“My car?”
“They said there was nothing left of you.”
“Who told you?”
Mallory hesitated.
“Your brother.”
The words struck harder than any bullet.
Silas's older brother, Adrian Keene, had been dead for eighteen months.
At least, that was what Silas had been told.
Adrian had supposedly been killed in a private aircraft accident over the Caribbean.
Silas had attended the memorial service.
He had never seen a body.
“Adrian was there?” he asked.
Mallory nodded.
“He came to the house three days after you disappeared. He said the family needed to accept what happened.”
Silas felt the floor shift beneath him.
“What house?”
“Our Chicago house.”
“When?”
“Three days after your disappearance.”
Silas remembered that week.
Adrian had called him repeatedly while Silas was searching for Mallory. He had claimed to be in London handling a family business emergency.
He had even sent flowers to the restaurant where Mallory vanished.
Now Silas wondered whether every comforting word had been another piece of a carefully constructed lie.
“Mallory, listen to me. Adrian is dead.”
Her eyes widened.
“No.”
“He died eighteen months ago.”
“No, Silas.”
She grabbed his sleeve.
For the first time since he had found her, she touched him voluntarily.
“He came here last week.”
Silas went completely still.
“What?”
“Last week. He was wearing a dark coat. He came into Walter's office. I heard his voice.”
“Are you certain?”
“I would recognize his voice anywhere.”
Before Silas could ask another question, a door slammed somewhere upstairs.
Mallory released his sleeve.
“They're looking for me.”
Silas took off his tuxedo jacket and placed it around her shoulders.
She looked down at it.
The familiar scent of his cologne reached her.
For a second, her face crumpled.
Then she whispered something that made his blood run cold.
“They told me you were buried beneath the ocean.”
Silas reached for his phone.
“Jonah.”
His investigator answered immediately.
“I'm listening.”
“Get the car to the service entrance. Bring two men. Quietly.”
“Understood.”
“And Jonah?”
“Yes?”
“Find every record connected to Adrian Keene. Every flight, every bank transfer, every hospital record. I want to know whether my brother is alive.”
There was a pause.
“Silas, why?”
“Because my wife just saw him.”
He ended the call.
Then he turned back to Mallory.
“We're going home.”
She didn't move.
Instead, she looked toward the staircase.
“They won't let you take me.”
Silas gently held out his hand.
“Let them try.”
A sharp voice interrupted them.
“Mr. Keene.”
Walter Dain stood in the doorway.
His tuxedo was immaculate. His smile was gone.
Two large men stood behind him.
“I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding,” Walter said.
Silas didn't turn around.
“No. I think I'm beginning to understand everything.”
Walter glanced at Mallory.
“You cannot remove that woman from this property.”
“Watch me.”
“She signed a contract.”
Silas finally faced him.
“A contract?”
“A legal employment agreement.”
“Then you won't mind showing it to my attorney.”
Walter's expression tightened.
“She's not employed here in the ordinary sense.”
Silas smiled without warmth.
“Then perhaps you should explain what sense you mean.”
Walter ignored the question.
“Your wife has been under our protection for three years. We took her in when nobody else wanted her.”
Mallory began trembling again.
Silas looked at her.
“Is that true?”
She shook her head.
Walter continued.
“She arrived with no identification, no money, and serious psychological problems. We gave her food and shelter.”
“You gave her a uniform and a cleaning brush.”
“She needed structure.”
Silas stepped closer.
“Tell me something, Walter. Did you know who she was when she arrived?”
Walter's silence lasted one second too long.
Silas noticed.
Of course he noticed.
Then Walter smiled.
“I don't know what you've been told, but I suggest you leave before this becomes unpleasant.”
Silas took Mallory's hand.
“Come on.”
This time, she followed.
But as they approached the doorway, Walter spoke again.
“Ask your wife what happened the night you disappeared.”
Mallory stopped.
Silas slowly turned.
Walter's smile returned.
“Ask her what she was doing outside that restaurant. Ask her why there was blood on her scarf. And ask her why she never told you about the man who approached her before you went inside.”
Silas looked at Mallory.
Her face had gone completely white.
“Mallory?”
She began crying.
“I didn't want to hurt you.”
“What happened that night?”
She shook her head.
Walter leaned against the doorway.
“Perhaps she should tell you about the baby, too.”
Silas stopped breathing.
“What baby?”
Mallory covered her mouth.
And Walter Dain delivered the final blow.
“Your wife was pregnant when she disappeared, Mr. Keene.”
Silas looked at Mallory.
Three years of searching.
Three years of unanswered questions.
And now a truth he had never known existed.
“Mallory,” he whispered. “Were we going to have a child?”
She couldn't answer.
She only pressed one trembling hand against her stomach.
May you like
Then she whispered:
“They told me you died before you could meet your son.”
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