Chapter 3 - THE SECRET BENEATH THE HOUSE
Meline read the note three times.
The first time, she thought it was a cruel joke.
The second time, she checked the door lock.
The third time, she noticed the faint impression of a fingerprint in the ink where someone had pressed too hard while writing.
She folded the paper and put it in her apron pocket.
Then she picked up the broken pieces of her grandfather's envelope.
Inside had been the last statement from the funeral home, a receipt for the small headstone she had ordered, and a photograph she had carried since childhood. It showed her grandfather standing beside a younger woman in front of a weathered blue house. The woman had one hand resting on a little girl's shoulder.
Meline had always assumed the girl was her.
But she had never seen the photograph before the final weeks of her grandfather's life, when he had begun confusing dates and names.
She placed it carefully inside her suitcase.
Whatever was happening at the Moretti estate, she could not afford to lose the one person who had raised her all over again in her memories.
Her grandfather had taken her in when she was six, after her mother died. He had never explained much about her father. When Meline asked, he would simply say, "Some men leave because they are cowards. Some leave because they believe they're protecting you. And some never leave at all, even when everyone tells you they're gone."
She had never understood what he meant.
Until now, she had never thought the answer might matter.
A knock sounded at the door.
Meline grabbed the black button.
"Who is it?"
"Rosa. From the kitchen."
She opened the door a few inches.
Rosa Delgado, the estate's longtime cook, stood in the corridor with a tray of sandwiches and two mugs of tea. She was a broad-shouldered woman in her late fifties whose expression suggested that she had seen enough household scandals to fill several lifetimes.
"I heard about the note," Rosa said.
Meline's fingers tightened around the door.
"How?"
"Because I saw the security chief carrying a photograph of your room downstairs. And because someone has been asking questions about you since before you arrived."
Meline stepped aside.
Rosa entered, set the tray down, and closed the door behind her.
"Listen carefully. I don't know everything, but I know this house has been sick for a long time. People have learned to survive by pretending not to see what happens in front of them."
"Who left the note?"
"If I knew, I'd tell Alessandro."
"Would you?"
Rosa studied her.
"Yes. And you should too."
Meline handed her the note.
Rosa read it, and her face changed.
"Where did you find this?"
"On my pillow."
The cook turned the paper over.
"This isn't a joke. The handwriting looks familiar."
"Whose?"
"Someone who has worked here for years."
Before Meline could ask more, a phone vibrated in Rosa's pocket.
She checked the screen and frowned.
"Mr. Giovanni needs his afternoon tea. Come with me."
"Is that an order?"
"It's an opportunity to get out of this room."
They walked through the service corridor, past laundry carts and the pantry where the morning's staff had gathered in uneasy silence. Several employees watched Meline pass. Some offered apologetic smiles. Others turned away.
In Giovanni's sitting room, the old man was arguing with Alessandro about a chessboard.
"You always did cheat," Giovanni said.
"I beat you because I can think three moves ahead."
"You beat me because I let you win when you were twelve."
"That is a lie."
"It's a father's privilege."
Meline laughed before she could stop herself.
Both men looked at her.
Giovanni smiled. Alessandro looked briefly surprised, as though laughter were an unfamiliar sound in a room where he usually conducted business.
"Come in," Giovanni said. "Tell my son that cheating at chess is a moral failure."
"I think I'd better remain neutral."
"A wise woman," Alessandro said.
He stood and offered her the chair beside his father's.
Meline accepted, but before she could sit, Giovanni noticed the discoloration around her wrist.
"Does it hurt?"
"A little."
Alessandro's expression hardened.
"Did someone touch you again?"
"No. It's from yesterday."
He seemed to recognize the distinction between a reassuring answer and a truthful one.
"Did you find anything unusual in your room?"
Meline looked at him carefully.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because my security team found evidence that someone entered it."
He placed a clear evidence sleeve on the table. Inside was a photograph of the black button.
Meline's stomach tightened.
"Someone left a note."
She handed it to him.
Alessandro read the words without changing expression. Then he passed the paper to his security chief, who had been standing beside the door.
"Check the cameras. Every entrance, every corridor, every vehicle leaving the property in the last twenty-four hours."
"Yes, sir."
"And nobody goes near her room without my authorization."
Meline crossed her arms.
"I appreciate your concern, but I don't want to become a prisoner."
His gaze returned to her.
"You won't."
"Then I want a key to my own room, permission to leave the estate on my days off, and the right to refuse any duty that makes me uncomfortable."
Giovanni's eyebrows rose.
Alessandro studied her for several seconds.
"Agreed."
She had expected resistance.
Instead, he pulled a small card from his wallet and wrote a number on it.
"My direct line. If you feel unsafe, call me. If I don't answer, call the security chief."
Meline took the card but did not thank him immediately.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because someone threatened an employee on my property."
"Only because of that?"
Something passed through his expression.
"No."
He glanced toward his father.
"Because the last time I ignored a warning, someone I loved paid for it."
Before Meline could ask who, Giovanni abruptly pushed away from the chessboard.
"Alessandro, there is something you need to know."
His voice had lost its teasing warmth.
"The woman who worked in this house before Meline disappeared didn't simply resign."
Alessandro went still.
"What woman?"
"Her name was Evelyn Shaw. She was the only person who knew where I kept the old records."
"Those records were destroyed."
"No," Giovanni said. "They were hidden."
Meline felt the room change around her.
"What records?" she asked.
Neither man answered immediately.
Giovanni looked at her, and for the first time she saw genuine fear in his eyes.
"Records concerning a night twenty years ago," he said, "when this family lost a child."
May you like
Then he reached for Meline's hand.
"And I believe that child may be connected to you."
