Chương 5
Marcus studied me.
“You think Victor is dangerous?”
I looked back at Elena's notebook.
“I think someone is.”
After he left, I sat alone for a long time.
The city outside my window moved like nothing had changed.
People went to work.
Cars stopped at lights.
Someone across the street carried a bag of groceries.
Ordinary life continued.
I envied ordinary people.
They had problems that ended.
Mine had simply gone quiet.
Around noon, Grace appeared outside my office door.
She looked nervous.
“Can I come in?”
I nodded.
Amara was not with her this time.
That was the first thing I noticed.
“Where is your daughter?”
“With the nanny.”
I looked at her.
“You have a nanny?”
Grace gave a small embarrassed smile.
“Sometimes.”
The normal answer almost felt strange after everything else.
She sat down slowly.
“I should tell you everything.”
“Yes.”
She looked at the floor.
“I did not plan to work here.”
“I know.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You don't.”
I waited.
“My application to your household was not an accident.”
The words changed the room.
“Explain.”
Grace took a breath.
“I was looking for Elena.”
I did not move.
“I thought she was alive.”
The silence afterward felt endless.
Then Grace added the words that made every assumption I had carried for nine years begin to collapse.
“Because someone sent me proof that your daughter’s death was not what you were told.”
I stared at Grace across the desk.
For a few seconds, I could not decide whether I wanted her to continue or leave.
Both feelings existed at the same time.
I wanted the truth.
I also wanted the world to go back to the way it was ten minutes earlier, when my biggest problem was a photograph I did not understand.
“What proof?”
Grace looked down at her hands.
“They sent a package.”
“When?”
“Almost a year ago.”
My expression hardened.
“A year ago?”
“Yes.”
“And you waited until now?”
Her face tightened.
“I didn't know if it was real.”
“That is not your decision to make.”
“No.”
She nodded.
“You're right.”
The acceptance caught me off guard.
Most people defended themselves when I challenged them.
Grace did not.
She simply absorbed the anger.
That made it harder to stay angry.
“What was in the package?”
She reached into her bag.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like she was handling something dangerous.
She placed a small envelope on my desk.
I did not touch it immediately.
“Who sent it?”
“I don't know.”
“Who delivered it?”
“A courier.”
“Company?”
“None.”
That answer bothered me.
“Nothing?”
“Just a plain envelope.”
I looked at her.
“You kept an anonymous package for a year?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her eyes moved toward the window.
“Because I knew what it felt like to lose someone and never get answers.”
The words were quiet.
Not a defense.
A confession.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a flash drive.
A printed photograph.
And a handwritten note.
The photograph showed Elena sitting in a hospital room.
She was wearing the same pink sweater she wore in the picture from the garden.
But there was something wrong.
Someone was standing behind her.
A woman.
Only partially visible.
I looked closer.
The woman's hand rested on Elena's shoulder.
On the back of the photograph was a date.
The day after I had been told Elena passed away.
My fingers went cold.
“That date is wrong.”
Grace shook her head.
“No.”
“It cannot be.”
“I thought that too.”
I looked at her.
“Then why believe it?”
“Because I recognized the room.”
My eyes returned to the picture.
“Where is the flash drive?”
“I don't know what is on it.”
“You didn't open it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Grace looked almost ashamed.
“Because if it was fake, I didn't want to know.”
The honesty of that answer hurt.
People always imagined truth was something everyone wanted.
It wasn't.
Sometimes truth was a door.
And people were afraid of what would be waiting behind it.
I picked up the flash drive.
“Marcus.”
My assistant answered immediately.
“Sir.”
“Come to my office.”
Three minutes later, Marcus entered.
His eyes moved between me and Grace.
He noticed the tension.
He always noticed.
“What's going on?”
I handed him the flash drive.
“Open it on a secure system.”
Marcus looked at the device.
Then at me.
“Where did this come from?”
“Grace.”
His expression changed slightly.
Not suspicion.
Concern.
He knew Grace.
Everyone in my house did.
She was quiet.
Reliable.
The kind of person employees trusted because she remembered birthdays and brought extra food when someone worked late.
She was not the type people expected to be connected to secrets.
“Do it,” I said.
Marcus nodded.
He left with the drive.
The silence afterward felt heavier than before.
“You should hate me,” Grace said.
I looked at her.
“For what?”
“For keeping this from you.”
I leaned back.
“I don't know what I should feel yet.”
That was the truth.
Anger would have been easier.
Anger had rules.
This was something else.
A mixture of confusion, guilt, fear, and a strange kind of hope I did not trust.
“Why were you looking for Elena?”
Grace took a slow breath.
“Because of a promise.”
“To who?”
“To her.”
I stared.
“She made you promise?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Grace's eyes moved toward the floor.
“The night before she died.”
The words felt impossible.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“No.”
My voice became sharper.
“No, you were not.”
“I was.”
“You just told me nobody was there.”
“I said nobody from your family was there.”
The distinction cut deeper.
I turned away.
“Tell me.”
Grace stayed silent for a moment.
Then she began.
“I was leaving my shift at the hospital.”
She looked toward the wall as if she was seeing something years away.
“I passed Elena's room.”
I did not interrupt.
“She was awake.”
My throat tightened.
“She called my name.”
“You knew her.”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
May you like
Grace swallowed.
“She asked me if I was scared of monsters.”
