His face changed.
“What?””
He showed me.
Incoming call.
*RICHARD COLE*
Dad reached for it.
I stopped him.
“No.””
“Maya.””
“He wanted me here?””
“We don’t know that.””
“Then I’m answering.””
I took the phone and pressed accept.
I said nothing.
For two seconds, there was only breathing.
Then a man spoke.
“Eric?””
I knew Richard’s voice.
I had heard it in board meetings dozens of times.
“Wrong person,” I said.
Silence.
Then—
“Maya.””
Not surprise.
Recognition.
He knew.
“You expected me.””
“I hoped you wouldn’t come.””
“Where are you?””
“That doesn’t matter.””
“It matters to me.””
“Listen carefully. Do not leave the hotel with your father.””
My eyes moved to Dad.
His expression froze.
“What did you say?””
Richard’s voice became urgent.
“David is not telling you everything.””
Dad stepped toward me.
“Hang up.””
I raised a hand.
“Why shouldn’t I leave with him?””
Richard exhaled.
“Because the photograph wasn’t sent to me.””
I felt my heartbeat against my ribs.
Dad whispered, “Maya.””
I ignored him.
“Who received it?””
Richard answered.
“Your father.””
I looked at Dad.
His face said enough.
Richard continued.
“And the message attached to it wasn’t a warning about Stephen.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What did it say?””
Richard paused.
Then spoke very softly.
“Ask David what happened the night your mother died.””
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone.
Dad stared at me.
And suddenly the hotel, Vanessa, the stolen money, all of it felt small.
I looked at the brass key in his hand.
“My mother didn’t die during surgery,” I said.
Dad’s eyes filled with something I couldn’t name.
Fear.
Regret.
Maybe both.
“What happened that night?””
He opened his mouth.
Before he could answer, every light in the lobby went out.
Darkness swallowed the Beaumont Crown.
Someone screamed near the elevators.
Glassware crashed in the lounge.
The piano stopped mid-note.
Then the emergency lights flickered on, bathing the lobby in dim red.
“Noah.””
My son’s name tore out of me.
I ran.
Dad caught my arm.
“Maya, wait.””
I ripped free.
“My son is upstairs.””
“The elevators won’t be running.””
“Then I’m taking the stairs.””
Charles grabbed a flashlight from the security desk.
“I’m coming.””
“So am I,” Dad said.
“No.””
“Maya—”
“You stay where I can see you.””
That hurt him.
I saw it.
I didn’t care.
Not then.
We crossed the lobby toward the emergency stairwell.
Behind us, one of the guards shouted.
“Hey!””
I turned.
Vanessa was gone.
Only one security officer remained beside Eric.
The second guard was staring at an open side door.
“She ran?””
Eric looked stunned.
“When the lights went out.””
Dad swore.
Charles keyed his radio.
No response.
“What happened to backup power?””
“It should have switched instantly.””
“But it didn’t.””
“No.””
That was the second thing that frightened me.
The first was Noah.
I pushed open the stairwell door.
“Nineteenth floor?””
Charles nodded.
“The executive dining area connects to the Presidential level.””
We started climbing.
By the sixth floor, my lungs burned.
By the tenth, my legs were shaking.
Dad kept pace behind me.
He was sixty-seven.
I hated that he was still capable of matching me.
I hated even more that some part of me still felt safer because he was there.
At the twelfth-floor landing, Charles’s radio crackled.
“Mr. Whitmore?””
He stopped.
“Yes?””
Static.
Then Thomas’s voice.
“We have Mrs. Bennett’s son.””
I almost collapsed with relief.
“Where?”” I grabbed the radio.
Thomas answered immediately.
“Mrs. Bennett?””
“Yes. Where is Noah?””
“Room 1901.””
I looked at Charles.
“Why is he in a room?””
Thomas sounded confused.
“A woman from executive services came to the dining room right before the power went out. She said you instructed us to move him.””
“I did not.””
Dad’s face went pale.
“What woman?””
Thomas answered.
“Vanessa.””
My stomach dropped.
“She’s with you?””
“No.””
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“What do you mean, no?””
“She brought us into the suite, then said she needed to check the hallway. The door locked behind her.””
“Is Noah okay?””
“Yes. He’s scared, but he’s okay.””
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Stay with him.””
“I will.””
I gave the radio back.
Then I ran faster.
Dad grabbed the railing.
“Maya, think.””
“I am thinking.””
“Vanessa might be following instructions.””
“From her father?””
“Maybe.””
“Or from someone else?””
Dad didn’t answer.
We reached nineteen.
Charles swiped his master key.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
“Electronic locks are offline,” he said.
I stared at him.
“Emergency override?””
“Mechanical key.””
“Where?””
“Security.””
“Downstairs?””
“Yes.””
I wanted to hit something.
Then Dad took the old brass key from his pocket.
Charles stared at it.
“That won’t open modern locks.””
Dad looked toward the end of the corridor.
“It might open one.””
My skin prickled.
“What are you talking about?””
He walked past Room 1901.
“Dad.””
He continued toward a narrow decorative panel between two framed paintings.
He pressed the edge.
The panel opened.
Behind it was an old wooden door.
Not hotel-modern.
Older.
Original architecture.
A brass lock sat beneath the handle.
I stared at the key.
“No.””
Dad inserted it.
The lock turned.
My mouth went dry.
“What is this?””
“A service passage built when the hotel opened in 1928.””
“How do you know?””
“Your mother showed me.””
Charles looked stunned.
“I’ve managed this property fourteen years.””
Dad pushed the door open.
“You weren’t supposed to know.””
A narrow corridor stretched beyond it.
Unpainted brick.
Old pipes.
Emergency bulbs.