Chapter 4 - THE EAST WINGEmma should have gone to Adrian immediately.
Instead, she took screenshots.
Fear had taught her another rule during her years at the shelter:
Never confront someone powerful with only a story.
Bring evidence.
The next morning, she told Adrian she needed the afternoon off.
“Emergency?”
“Dentist.”
It was a lie.
She drove twenty miles from the estate and called Maria Reyes from a prepaid phone.
A woman answered on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Is this Maria?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Emma Carter. I’m calling about Anna.”
Silence.
Then the line disconnected.
Emma called again.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
She sent one message.
I work at Blackwood Estate. I think Anna discovered something involving Noah.
Her phone rang thirty seconds later.
Maria sounded frightened.
“Don’t call me again.”
“Is Anna alive?”
Another silence.
“Yes.”
Emma closed her eyes in relief.
“Where?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Was she hurt?”
Maria began crying.
“Anna came home with two broken ribs and a concussion. She said she fell.”
“Did you believe her?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“She wouldn’t tell me. Three days later, someone paid her hospital bill and gave her fifty thousand dollars.”
“Who?”
“The Blackwoods.”
“Which Blackwood?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is Anna now?”
“Arizona.”
“Can I speak with her?”
“No.”
“Maria, there’s a four-year-old boy in that house.”
Maria stopped breathing.
Emma continued.
“He’s terrified.”
Thirty minutes later, Anna Reyes called.
Her voice was quiet.
“You need to leave.”
“What did you find?”
“A room.”
“In the east wing?”
“Yes.”
“What was inside?”
“Documents. Recordings. Medical supplies.”
Emma felt cold.
“Tell me.”
“I was looking for Noah one night. I heard him crying. Lydia came out of that room. When she saw me, she said Noah had been sleepwalking.”
“And you believed her?”
“For about twelve hours.”
Anna explained that the next day she had returned.
She found financial records.
Prescription bottles.
Copies of Isabelle Blackwood’s signatures.
And a hidden surveillance system covering almost every private room in the estate.
Before she could photograph everything, Lydia found her.
“What happened?”
“She shoved me down six stairs.”
Emma gripped the phone.
“Why didn’t you go to police?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“Eleanor’s attorney arrived before I finished giving my statement. He showed me footage of me entering a restricted room and accused me of theft.”
Anna’s voice broke.
“They said they’d destroy me.”
“So you took the money.”
“Yes.”
Emma didn’t judge her.
Fear did ugly things to choices.
“Did Isabelle know?”
“I think she discovered everything before she died.”
“Do you believe her accident was really an accident?”
Anna was silent so long Emma thought the call had dropped.
Then:
“I don’t know.”
That evening, Emma waited until Adrian left for a charity dinner.
Eleanor retired at ten.
Lydia entered the staff wing at ten thirty.
Emma slipped into the east corridor at eleven.
The doors were locked.
Noah’s tiny brass key opened the third.
Inside was a narrow office.
Shelves.
A desk.
Medication.
Stacks of financial files.
Emma used her phone flashlight.
Then she saw photographs.
Isabelle.
Dozens of them.
At restaurants.
In the garden.
Leaving doctors’ offices.
Someone had been tracking her.
Emma opened a cabinet.
Inside were bottles bearing Noah’s name.
Sedatives.
Some prescriptions were months old.
Some were written by different doctors.
She photographed every label.
Then she noticed a small digital recorder.
She pressed play.
Isabelle’s voice filled the room.
“If something happens to me, Eleanor knows.”
Emma froze.
The recording continued.
“I found transfers from Noah’s trust. Lydia has been moving money through shell companies with Mother’s authorization. Adrian won’t believe me without proof.”
Emma’s hand trembled.
“There’s more. They’ve been medicating Noah without Adrian knowing. Eleanor says he’s difficult. He isn’t difficult. He’s afraid of her.”
A noise sounded behind Emma.
She turned.
Lydia stood in the doorway.
No smile now.
“You really should have taken the money.”
Emma backed away.
“You drugged him.”
Lydia closed the door.
“You have no idea what you’re interfering with.”
“You abused a child.”
“I controlled a child.”
Emma’s stomach turned.
“Where’s Noah?”
Lydia smiled.
“Safe.”
Emma lunged toward the door.
Lydia grabbed her.
They crashed into the desk.
Emma shoved her away.
A lamp shattered.
Lydia caught Emma’s hair and yanked her backward.
Emma screamed.
Then the door burst open.
Adrian stood there.
Behind him were two security guards.
He stared at Lydia.
Then the medications.
Then Emma.
“What the hell is happening?”
Emma tried to speak.
Lydia beat her to it.
“She broke into the east wing.”
Adrian looked at Emma.
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“You stole confidential documents?”
“No.”
Lydia pointed toward Emma’s pocket.
“She has your wife’s recordings.”
Adrian’s face transformed.
“Give me the phone.”
Emma stepped back.
“Listen first.”
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
His voice became dangerously quiet.
“Emma.”
“Your son is being drugged.”
Silence.
Lydia laughed.
“She’s insane.”
Emma held up the medication bottle.
“This prescription isn’t in the medical file you gave me.”
Adrian stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“This room.”
He turned toward Lydia.
She stopped smiling.
Emma played Isabelle’s recording.
For seventeen seconds, nobody moved.
Then Isabelle’s voice said:
“They’ve been medicating Noah without Adrian knowing.”
Adrian went white.
Lydia ran.
One security guard caught her before she reached the hallway.
Adrian grabbed the desk for support.
Emma thought it was over.
Then Eleanor appeared.
She looked at Lydia being restrained.
At Emma.
At the recorder.
And finally at Adrian.
May you like
“My dear boy,” she said softly.
“You were never supposed to hear that.”
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