PART 3 — The Person Vincent Trusted Most
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Vincent kept staring at the security footage.
The frozen image of the stranger stood on the screen, one gloved hand resting near the ventilation controls.
But I wasn't looking at his face anymore.
I was looking at his wrist.
That silver bracelet.
I knew I had seen it.
I just couldn't remember where.
“Claire?”
Vincent's voice pulled me back.
“What?”
“You said you recognized the bracelet.”
I hesitated.
“I'm not sure.”
Dr. Blake stepped forward.
“You're imagining things.”
I turned toward him.
“Maybe.”
His expression remained calm.
Too calm.
Then Mrs. Harper suddenly spoke.
“Mr. Moretti…”
Vincent looked at her.
“What?”
“I think I know who owns that bracelet.”
Everyone became silent.
She slowly pointed toward the hallway.
“Mrs. Collins.”
Vincent frowned.
“Mrs. Collins?”
“The wife of your head of security.”
“Why would she be inside the ventilation room?”
Mrs. Harper shook her head.
“She wouldn't.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I've seen that bracelet before.”
Her voice trembled.
“Mrs. Collins gave one exactly like it to someone in this house.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
Then lowered her eyes.
“I don't know.”
That answer wasn't good enough.
I stepped closer.
“Mrs. Harper, think carefully.”
She closed her eyes.
“I remember seeing it about six months ago.”
“Where?”
“In the west wing.”
Vincent immediately stiffened.
“The west wing has been closed for years.”
“Exactly.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
He didn't answer.
Dr. Blake did.
“Because it's under renovation.”
I turned toward him.
“Since when?”
“After Isabella died.”
The room became cold.
I looked at Vincent.
“You never mentioned the west wing.”
“There was no reason to.”
“There might be now.”
Vincent walked toward the corridor.
“Stay here.”
I followed him.
“No.”
He stopped.
“Claire.”
“If someone entered the ventilation control room last night, and that person may have access to the west wing, I'm coming with you.”
Dr. Blake objected immediately.
“This is ridiculous.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Then you stay here.”
The doctor said nothing.
We walked toward the west wing.
The hallway became darker with every step.
Unlike the rest of the mansion, this section looked abandoned.
Dust covered the furniture.
The windows were sealed.
Several doors had heavy locks.
Vincent stopped in front of the final door.
“This area hasn't been opened since Isabella's funeral.”
I looked at the lock.
There were fresh scratches around it.
Someone had opened it recently.
Vincent noticed them too.
He pulled out his phone.
“Security.”
A guard answered.
“Open the west wing immediately.”
“Sir, are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
A cold draft moved through the hallway.
And underneath it…
I smelled the same sweet chemical scent.
I looked at Vincent.
“It's here too.”
He stepped inside.
The room beyond was filled with old furniture and covered paintings.
At the end of the hallway was a small office.
Vincent stopped.
“That was Isabella's office.”
I looked at him.
“Her office?”
“She used it before she died.”
He opened the door.
Everything was exactly as she had left it.
Books.
Photographs.
Documents.
A half-empty perfume bottle.
And on the desk…
A small silver bracelet.
My heart stopped.
Vincent stared at it.
“I've never seen that before.”
I walked closer.
There was something engraved on the inside.
Two letters.
H.B.
I looked at Vincent.
“H.B.”
His face changed.
“Harrison Blake.”
We both turned toward the doorway.
Dr. Blake was standing there.
He looked at the bracelet.
For the first time since I had met him…
He looked genuinely frightened.
Vincent's voice became dangerously quiet.
“What is this?”
Dr. Blake didn't answer.
“Why is your bracelet in my dead wife's office?”
“It isn't mine.”
I pointed at the initials.
“H.B.”
He stared at me.
“Anyone could have put those initials there.”
Vincent stepped forward.
“Then explain why you have the same bracelet on your wrist.”
Dr. Blake looked down.
His bracelet was gone.
He immediately reached into his pocket.
“I removed it earlier.”
“Why?”
“Because it was damaged.”
I looked at Vincent.
Then back at the doctor.
“That isn't the same bracelet.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“The one on your wrist yesterday had a small black stone.”
I pointed at the desk.
“This one doesn't.”
Silence.
Someone was lying.
But I didn't know who.
Then something caught my eye.
A photograph.
It showed Isabella standing beside two people.
Vincent.
And Dr. Blake.
But there was something strange.
The photograph was dated five years ago.
One year before Isabella died.
I picked it up.
“Were you friends?”
Vincent nodded slowly.
“Harrison was Isabella's doctor.”
“Only her doctor?”
He looked at the photograph.
“I trusted him.”
Dr. Blake said nothing.
I turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
If anything happens to me, don't trust the person you think you know best.
My hands went cold.
Vincent read it.
His face went pale.
“That's Isabella's handwriting.”
Dr. Blake suddenly stepped backward.
“I need to leave.”
Vincent blocked the doorway.
“No.”
The doctor looked at him.
“Vincent, listen to me.”
“You knew she was afraid.”
“I knew she was paranoid.”
“She wrote this.”
“I don't know when.”
“You were her doctor.”
“Yes.”
“And you were treating my sons.”
“Yes.”
“And now we find your initials in her office.”
Dr. Blake's face hardened.
“You have no evidence against me.”
“Maybe not yet.”
Vincent's voice was ice-cold.
“But I have questions.”
Before he could continue, a loud alarm sounded throughout the mansion.
Security.
Everyone froze.
Vincent's phone rang.
His head of security was calling.
“Sir, you need to come downstairs.”
“Why?”
“There was another breach.”
“Where?”
A pause.
“Your private study.”
Vincent looked at me.
“What was stolen?”
The guard's voice became quieter.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Because whoever entered left something.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
Vincent's expression changed.
“Of what?”
The guard hesitated.
“Of your sons.”
My stomach tightened.
“Where was it taken?”
The answer came slowly.
“Inside their bedrooms.”
I looked at Lucas and Leo's empty hallway.
The photograph had been taken while the boys were sleeping.
But that wasn't the worst part.
Written across the photograph were six words.
YOU'RE LOOKING IN THE WRONG PLACE.
I looked at Vincent.
Then at Dr. Blake.
And suddenly, I understood.
Someone wanted us to suspect the doctor.
Which meant there was another person hiding behind him.
Someone who knew exactly what we were doing.
Someone who had been watching us from the beginning.
And if that person could enter the twins' bedrooms without being detected…
Then the mansion wasn't protecting Lucas and Leo.
It was protecting the person who was hurting them.
TO BE CONTINUED…
