“Mark.”
“I don't know.”
“You transferred millions of dollars to someone you don't know?”
“They sent me instructions.”
“And you obeyed?”
“They had Dad.”
Eleanor stared at him.
“You knew Richard was alive.”
“I knew someone who looked like him was alive.”
“For how long?”
Mark didn't answer.
“How long?”
“Six months.”
The words struck harder than Chloe's coffee ever had.
“You let me believe my husband was dead while you were communicating with people claiming to hold him?”
“I was trying to verify it.”
“You should have told me.”
“They threatened you.”
Eleanor froze.
Mark's anger disappeared.
“They sent photographs of you sleeping.”
The room became very still.
“Inside this house?” Eleanor whispered.
Mark nodded.
“That's why I paid.”
Anna looked toward the doorway.
“We need to leave.”
Eleanor didn't move.
“Why?”
“Because whoever photographed you inside this house didn't need to break in tonight.”
Anna looked around the bedroom.
“They were already here.”
A soft click came from the ceiling.
Everyone looked up.
The smoke detector blinked red.
Once.
Twice.
Then a voice came through it.
“Very good, Anna.”
Eleanor's blood chilled.
Anna whispered, “Run.”
The lights died.
They escaped through the servants' staircase.
Thirty seconds later, every security shutter in the mansion slammed down simultaneously.
Someone was trying to trap them inside.
Anna led them through the kitchen and into an old wine cellar.
Mark stopped.
“This is a dead end.”
“No.”
Anna pushed aside a wooden rack.
Behind it was a narrow tunnel.
Eleanor stared.
“What is this?”
“Your husband had more secrets than either of us knew.”
They entered.
The tunnel smelled of wet earth.
Mark used his phone flashlight.
“Where does it lead?”
“Outside the estate.”
“How do you know?”
Anna kept walking.
“Because I used it the night I supposedly died.”
Eleanor stopped.
“What?”
Anna turned.
“Room 314 wasn't where the fire started.”
Eleanor stared at her.
“It started here.”
For a second, only rainwater dripping through the tunnel could be heard.
“You came here after giving me the diary,” Eleanor said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To get the child.”
Eleanor's voice became smaller.
“Chloe?”
Anna shook her head.
“Her name wasn't Chloe then.”
“What was it?”
Anna hesitated.
“Claire.”
Mark looked between them.
“Claire Whitmore?”
Anna's expression changed.
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Mark saw it.
“Why do I know that name?”
No answer.
“Mom.”
Eleanor whispered, “Because she was your sister.”
Mark went motionless.
“My what?”
“The baby girl Richard and I rescued.”
“You told me I was an only child.”
“I thought she died.”
Anna interrupted.
“She didn't.”
Mark stared at Eleanor.
“Then Chloe is my sister?”
“No.”
Anna's answer came immediately.
Eleanor looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
Anna took another photograph from her pocket.
It showed two infant girls.
Identical.
Mark whispered, “Twins.”
Anna nodded.
“Claire had a sister.”
Eleanor's face emptied.
“No.”
“You never knew.”
“No.”
“The hospital records were altered before Richard found them.”
“Where is the other girl?”
Anna stared at her.
“I don't know.”
A gunshot exploded through the tunnel.
Stone shattered beside Mark's head.
“DOWN!”
Anna dragged Eleanor behind a concrete support.
Another shot.