Chapter 2 - VANESSA’S SMILE
Vanessa Bell didn’t look frightened.
That bothered Richard immediately.
She stood beneath the chandelier wearing cream slacks and a fitted black sweater, her dark hair perfectly arranged.
No panic.
No apology.
Just irritation.
“Richard,” she said. “You should have called.”
Sophie pressed herself tighter against him.
Richard felt it.
Vanessa noticed.
Her smile disappeared for half a second.
Richard pointed at the door.
“Open it.”
Vanessa sighed.
“This looks terrible without context.”
“Open the door.”
“Sophie has been having behavioral issues.”
“She was eating dog food.”
Vanessa’s expression changed.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I gave her lunch.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“She probably threw it away.”
Sophie whispered, “I didn’t.”
Vanessa looked directly at her.
“Sweetheart, remember what we discussed about telling stories?”
Sophie flinched.
Richard stepped between them.
“Don’t speak to her.”
Vanessa blinked.
“You cannot seriously believe—”
“The key.”
“Richard.”
“Now.”
She handed it over.
Richard unlocked the deadbolt.
The room smelled stale.
There were no windows.
No furniture except a thin mat on the floor.
A plastic bucket sat in one corner.
Richard stopped breathing.
On the wall were dozens of pencil marks.
Lines.
Circles.
Small drawings.
Sophie’s drawings.
One showed a tiny girl sitting alone.
Another showed a tall woman outside a door.
A third showed a man in a suit far away beneath an airplane.
Daddy.
Richard looked at Sophie.
“How long?”
She buried her face against him.
Vanessa spoke quickly.
“It’s a calming room.”
Richard turned.
“A what?”
“Children sometimes need sensory isolation when they become overstimulated.”
“There’s a deadbolt on the outside.”
“For safety.”
“There’s a bucket.”
Vanessa went pale.
“That wasn’t my idea.”
Richard stepped closer.
“Whose was it?”
No answer.
Richard pulled out his phone.
Vanessa’s eyes sharpened.
“Who are you calling?”
“The police.”
Her confidence finally cracked.
“Richard, don’t be ridiculous.”
He dialed.
Vanessa lunged for the phone.
Richard moved back.
She stopped herself.
That one movement told him everything.
“You’re finished here,” Richard said.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
Vanessa glanced toward Sophie.
Then toward the staircase.
Richard followed her eyes.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
Richard spoke into the phone and requested officers and medical assistance.
When he finished, Vanessa folded her arms.
“You’re going to regret making this public.”
Richard almost laughed.
“My daughter has bruises.”
“You travel constantly. You barely know what happens inside your own house.”
The sentence hit because it was true.
Vanessa saw it land.
“You hired me to handle her,” she continued. “You didn’t want problems while you were building your empire.”
Richard’s face hardened.
“I hired you to care for her.”
“And I did.”
Sophie suddenly whispered, “Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“There’s another thing.”
Vanessa snapped, “Sophie.”
Richard’s head turned sharply.
“I told you not to speak to her.”
Sophie pointed inside the room.
“At the wall.”
Richard followed her finger.
Near the floor, partly hidden behind the mat, was a small air vent.
“The lady talks through there.”
Richard crouched.
“What lady?”
“The lady who comes at night.”
Vanessa went completely still.
Richard looked at her.
“Who comes at night?”
“No one.”
Sophie shook her head.
“She wears Mommy’s necklace.”
Richard’s blood went cold.
May you like
Sophie’s mother had been dead for three years.
And her necklace had disappeared the night she died.
