Chapter 5 - The Room Where the Stars Never Went Dark
"REBECCA DIDN'T HIDE HER SECRET FROM ME, ADRIAN. SHE HID IT FROM THE MAN YOU TRUSTED MORE THAN YOUR OWN WIFE!"
Sofia's words echoed through the farmhouse kitchen.
Adrian stood near the window, staring at the access records on Priya's computer.
For almost a year, he had believed the upstairs star room was untouched.
Now we knew Victor had been entering it regularly.
Perhaps searching for something.
Perhaps destroying evidence.
Or perhaps making sure nobody else discovered what Rebecca had hidden there.
Eleanor closed her notebook.
"We need to involve the authorities immediately."
"I agree," Adrian said.
"But if Victor realizes we've discovered the room, he may try to destroy whatever remains."
Eleanor considered that.
"Then we document what we can safely preserve, and we do nothing that interferes with a criminal investigation."
She called an appropriate federal contact to discuss the emerging evidence.
While she spoke, Sofia took the girls outside to watch birds gathering around a feeder.
For the first time since leaving the mansion, I allowed myself to breathe normally.
Adrian joined me near the kitchen sink.
"You should stay here with them."
I looked at him.
"Are you going back?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm coming."
He frowned.
"Claire, this doesn't have to be your problem."
I stared at him.
"Your daughters have spent a year believing their mother rejected them. Rebecca may have left something that proves otherwise."
I took a breath.
"I'm not walking away from that."
Adrian watched me for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"All right. But we do this with Eleanor and Priya."
That afternoon, after Eleanor arranged for the available evidence to be preserved and the authorities to be informed, we returned to the mansion.
The girls remained safely with Sofia.
Nico confirmed that Victor had left the property for a meeting in downtown Boston.
Eleanor accompanied us, as did Priya.
The house felt different without Lily and Emma.
Its beautiful marble floors, enormous chandeliers, and polished furniture seemed almost lifeless.
I wondered how Rebecca had felt during her final months.
Surrounded by wealth.
Surrounded by employees.
Yet unable to trust the people controlling her husband's world.
We climbed the grand staircase and entered the east wing.
At the end of a narrow hallway stood a pale blue door.
Adrian stopped in front of it.
"Rebecca painted this herself."
I looked at the small silver stars decorating the wood.
"She wanted the girls to know that even when they couldn't see the stars, they were still there."
His voice softened.
"She said love was the same way."
For a moment, he seemed unable to move.
Then he opened the door.
The room beyond was breathtaking.
A painted night sky covered the ceiling, with constellations stretching across deep blue walls.
A small telescope stood beside a tall window.
Children's astronomy books filled the shelves.
Colorful cushions surrounded a circular rug decorated with planets.
And above a wooden reading bench hung a beautiful brass star-shaped lamp.
Unlike the rest of the room, the lamp was glowing.
Adrian stared at it.
"That shouldn't be on."
"Why?"
"The room's been closed for a year."
I stepped closer.
The lamp illuminated the ceiling's painted constellations.
Something about it felt familiar.
Then I remembered Lily's stuffed fox.
Rebecca had loved telling her daughters stories about two little foxes searching for stars during winter.
Lily repeated those stories whenever she was frightened.
And she had once told me:
"Mommy said the brightest star stays on even when all the others disappear."
I looked up at the glowing lamp.
"Adrian."
He turned.
"What?"
"I think Rebecca told the girls where to look."
I pointed toward the lamp.
Eleanor approached.
"We should photograph everything before moving anything."
Priya documented the room and inspected the lamp without disturbing its electrical components.
A small decorative panel beneath the fixture appeared slightly loose.
Adrian recognized it immediately.
"Rebecca built a little storage compartment there. She used to hide birthday surprises for the twins."
He carefully opened the panel.
Inside rested a narrow metal box wrapped in blue fabric.
Nobody spoke.
Adrian lifted the box and placed it on the reading bench.
Eleanor photographed it from every angle.
Then Adrian opened it.
Inside lay three objects.
A small blue notebook.
A memory card inside a protective case.
And a photograph of Rebecca with Lily and Emma.
I gently picked up the photograph by its edges.
Rebecca was smiling.
The twins sat on her lap, laughing beneath a sky filled with paper stars.
On the back, she had written:
When the world feels dark, remember where the light lives.
I pressed my lips together, fighting tears.
Adrian opened the notebook.
The first pages contained dates, financial figures, and company names.
Several entries had been circled in red.
I recognized one name immediately.
Mercer Hope Foundation.
Rebecca's charitable organization.
Its programs had funded children's medical care, family counseling, and temporary housing for struggling parents.
Adrian turned another page.
His expression hardened.
"These numbers are impossible."
Eleanor looked over his shoulder.
"What are they?"
"Foundation transfers."
He pointed to a list of payments.
"Rebecca believed twelve million dollars had disappeared over three years."
Priya leaned closer.
One account appeared repeatedly.
North Harbor Holdings.
Another was listed as Wren International Services.
Adrian stared at the names.
"I've seen these companies."
"Where?" Eleanor asked.
"In Victor's freight reports."
Eleanor slowly closed her notebook.
"Then this may connect the foundation theft to your larger business operations."
Adrian looked toward the windows.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he continued reading.
Rebecca had documented payments, suspicious invoices, and requests for explanations that had never been answered.
Several pages described her attempts to warn Adrian.
One entry read:
Adrian says Victor handles the details. He doesn't understand that the details are where people hide their crimes.
I saw Adrian's jaw tighten.
The next entry was worse.
Today I showed him the missing children's therapy grants. He said Victor would explain everything after the weekend. I have never felt so alone in my marriage.
Adrian lowered the notebook.
"I remember that conversation."
His voice cracked.
"She was sitting at our kitchen table. I was leaving for a meeting."
"What did you say?" I asked.
He swallowed.
"I told her she was worrying about numbers instead of her health."
I looked away.
Some mistakes could be apologized for.
Others changed the direction of people's lives forever.
Priya secured the memory card for forensic review while Eleanor continued documenting the notebook.
Near the back, we found another folded paper.
It was a medical instruction sheet.
The document directed household staff to prevent all contact between Rebecca and her daughters during the final evening of her life.
It carried the name of Rebecca's physician, Dr. Evelyn Shaw.
But what caught my attention was the authorization line beneath it.
A signature appeared in dark ink.
Adrian Mercer.
I turned toward him.
"Adrian…"
He saw the paper.
His face drained of color.
"Is that your signature?"
He stared at it for several seconds.
May you like
Then he whispered:
"Yes."
