Chapter 13 - WHERE THE STARS SLEEP
Evelyn stared at the gun pressed against Lina's side.
For fifteen years, she had believed the worst thing that could happen was returning to the mansion.
Now she realized something more frightening.
Someone else might die because she had returned.
Victor tightened his grip.
“Ten.”
Lina shook her head.
“Evelyn, don't.”
“Nine.”
Armand stepped forward.
“Victor, listen to me.”
“Eight.”
Richard began to cry.
“Please.”
“Seven.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
And suddenly, a memory returned.
Her childhood bedroom.
A wooden ceiling painted with tiny golden stars.
Her mother standing beside the bed.
And a secret compartment beneath the floorboards.
Catherine used to call it the place where the stars slept.
Evelyn opened her eyes.
“I know where it is.”
Victor stopped counting.
“What?”
“The journal.”
He stared.
“Where?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“My bedroom.”
Victor studied her.
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Then take me there.”
Lina shook her head.
“Evelyn—”
Victor tightened his grip.
“Quiet.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Let Lina go, and I'll show you.”
Victor considered it.
Then shoved Lina toward Armand.
“Fine.”
He pointed the gun at Evelyn.
“Move.”
The staircase seemed longer than Evelyn remembered.
Each step brought another fragment of childhood rushing back.
The sound of her mother's laughter.
The smell of fresh bread from the kitchen.
The creaking floorboard near the second-floor landing.
Victor followed closely.
Behind them, Richard and Armand moved under Victor's orders.
Margaret remained downstairs with Lina.
Outside, police officers surrounded the mansion.
Mercer's voice echoed through a loudspeaker.
“Victor Hale! This is Detective Mercer! Release the hostages!”
Victor ignored him.
He pushed Evelyn toward her bedroom.
“Open it.”
She obeyed.
The room was exactly as she had left it.
Victor looked around impatiently.
“Where?”
Evelyn approached the bed.
She knelt beside the wooden floor.
Her fingers searched along the edge of a loose board.
Then she found it.
A tiny brass latch.
She pulled.
The board lifted.
Beneath it lay a narrow compartment.
Inside was a red leather journal.
Victor's eyes widened.
“Finally.”
He reached for it.
But Evelyn pulled it away.
“First, tell me what happened to Clara.”
Victor's expression hardened.
“Give me the book.”
“What happened to her?”
He raised the gun.
Evelyn did not move.
“Did you kill her?”
Victor stared.
Then laughed.
“No.”
Evelyn frowned.
“Then where is she?”
Victor's smile faded.
“Clara died trying to protect you.”
Evelyn felt the air leave her lungs.
“What?”
Victor leaned closer.
“She helped you escape. Then she came back for Catherine.”
Tears filled Evelyn's eyes.
“She came back?”
“Yes.”
“And you killed her?”
Victor hesitated.
For the first time, his expression showed something other than cruelty.
“Richard did.”
Armand turned toward his brother.
Richard staggered backward.
“No.”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“Tell them.”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
Victor raised the gun toward him.
“Tell them!”
Richard collapsed into a chair.
His face crumpled.
“It was an accident.”
Armand stared.
“What happened?”
Richard covered his face.
“Clara confronted me.”
His voice broke.
“She said she was going to the police.”
Evelyn began to cry.
Richard continued.
“We argued. She tried to leave. I grabbed her arm.”
He looked up.
“She fell down the stairs.”
Armand closed his eyes.
Richard sobbed.
“I didn't mean to kill her.”
Victor laughed.
“You didn't mean to do anything. You just kept making choices that destroyed everyone around you.”
Richard stared at him.
Then something changed in his face.
He looked toward Evelyn.
“I am sorry.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“Sorry doesn't bring her back.”
Richard lowered his eyes.
“I know.”
Downstairs, Lina heard footsteps above.
Then a muffled shout.
She looked toward Margaret.
“We need to do something.”
Margaret nodded.
“The old staircase.”
Lina frowned.
“What?”
“There's a servants' passage behind the linen closet. It leads to Isabelle's room.”
Lina stared.
“How do you know?”
Margaret looked away.
“Because I used it once.”
Lina felt a chill.
“When?”
Margaret swallowed.
“The night Isabelle disappeared.”
Lina stared at her.
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
“I was there.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Margaret's voice broke.
“Because I was the one who told Clara to run.”
Lina stood motionless.
Margaret continued.
“I knew Victor was planning to take Isabelle. I tried to warn Catherine, but I was too late.”
“Then why didn't you tell Armand?”
“Victor threatened my family.”
Lina shook her head.
“You still had a choice.”
Margaret lowered her eyes.
“I know.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Margaret looked up.
“I can't undo what I did.”
She stepped toward the hallway.
“But I can stop hiding.”
Upstairs, Victor opened the journal.
He flipped through the pages.
His expression changed.
“What is this?”
Evelyn watched him.
Catherine's journal contained handwritten notes, dates, names, and financial records.
But the final pages held something else.
A detailed account of Richard and Victor's crimes.
Including a signed confession from Clara.
Victor turned another page.
Then froze.
A photograph was tucked between the sheets.
It showed Victor standing beside a man outside a bank.
The man was not Richard.
It was a federal investigator.
Victor's face drained of color.
“No.”
Armand leaned closer.
“What?”
Victor stared at the photograph.
Then whispered:
“Catherine knew.”
Evelyn frowned.
“Knew what?”
Victor looked at her.
His voice trembled.
“That I was working with the authorities.”
The room fell silent.
Richard stared at him.
“What?”
Victor looked toward the window.
Police lights flashed across the garden.
Then he laughed.
A strange, broken laugh.
“You think I'm the only monster in this story?”
He turned toward Richard.
“You have no idea how much your brother's empire is worth to the people who wanted it destroyed.”
Armand stared.
“Who?”
Victor's expression changed.
For the first time, he looked genuinely frightened.
Then he whispered:
May you like
“THE MAN WHO ORDERED CATHERINE'S ACCIDENT IS STANDING OUTSIDE THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW.”
END OF CHAPTER 13
