Chapter 27: The Sound Below

The low hum of Eleanor’s wheelchair motor was a vibration in the floorboards before it was a sound. It was coming from the hallway, moving steadily toward the service stairs that led to the attic.

I shoved the passports into my purse, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. *Elena Blackwood.* The name felt alien and yet terrifyingly intimate, a legal fiction that had been waiting for me since I was twenty-two.

I couldn't go back up the vent. They would hear me. And the main office door was the only other exit.

I scanned the room. The heavy velvet drapes. The massive oak desk. The walk-in closet where Eleanor kept her archived files.

The closet.

I slipped inside, pulling the door shut just as the latch on the office door clicked.

I held my breath, pressing myself into the corner behind a rack of moth-balled coats. The darkness smelled of cedar and decay.

The office door opened.

"He's weeping," Eleanor’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and disgusted. "Like a child. Honestly, Marcus, I don't know how he manages to run a bath, let alone a company."

"He's under pressure, Eleanor," a man's voice replied. smooth, oily. Marcus Thorne. The family lawyer. "Catherine's resurgence wasn't part of the plan."

"Nothing about Catherine is part of the plan. She was supposed to stay sedated until the merger was finalized."

The wheelchair whirred across the rug. I heard the *clack* of a cane on the hardwood. Marcus was pacing.

"And Elena?" Marcus asked. "If she saw the painting..."

"She saw it," Eleanor confirmed. "She was in the attic. The little fool thinks she's a detective."

"We need to accelerate the timeline," Marcus said. "If she goes to the authorities with the insurance data, the fraud investigation will open up the Blackwood acquisition. And if they dig up the Blackwood acquisition..."

"They find the boy," Eleanor finished.

The closet air suddenly felt very thin. *The boy.* My son? Or the baby from the diary?

"Exactly," Marcus said. "We can't risk it. We need to trigger the default on the bridge loans tomorrow. Seize her assets. Discredit her."

"And the annulment?"

"I have the papers drafted. Based on the prior existing marriage to Catherine, Elena's marriage is void *ab initio*. She leaves with nothing. No alimony. No custody."

No custody.

The words hit me like a physical blow. They weren't just going to take my money. They were going to take the twins.

I bit my lip to keep from screaming.

"What about the passports?" Marcus asked. "Are they secure?"

"They're in the safe," Eleanor said. "Along with the original deed transfer."

"Good. We'll need them if we have to move assets quickly. The 'Blackwood' identities are clean. We can liquidate the Cayman accounts and vanish before the SEC even knows we're gone."

I clutched my purse tighter. I had the passports. I had their escape route.

"Open the safe, Marcus," Eleanor ordered. "Let's double-check the dates on the new visas."

My blood ran cold.

I heard footsteps approach the painting. The sound of the frame sliding against the wall.

Then silence.

"Eleanor," Marcus said, his voice tight.

"What is it?"

"The safe is empty."

A beat of absolute, terrifying silence.

Then Eleanor’s voice, low and trembling with rage.

"Find her. Now."

The closet door handle turned.