Chương 7
“Were you good?”
Isabella gave her a look.
Naomi laughed softly.
“Okay.”
She placed the book back.
“Very good.”
For a few minutes, they sat without speaking.
The quiet felt different.
Not empty.
Restful.
Then Isabella suddenly reached for Naomi’s hand.
Her grip was weak but urgent.
Naomi looked at her.
“What?”
Isabella pointed toward the folder.
Then toward the door.
Then she shook her head.
“No.”
Naomi understood slowly.
Someone had been near the documents.
Someone had taken them before.
Someone might try again.
She stood.
“Luca.”
But before she reached the door, the lights in the room flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went out.
The mansion fell into darkness.
A second later, the security alarm began.
Not the loud emergency alarm.
A silent internal alert.
The kind designed for people inside the house.
Naomi’s heart started racing.
Isabella grabbed her wrist.
A moment later, footsteps moved in the hallway.
Slow.
Careful.
Someone was not running.
Someone knew exactly where they were going.
Someone was not running.
Someone knew exactly where they were going.
Naomi stood still in the darkness, listening.
The sound of footsteps moved closer.
Isabella’s fingers tightened around her hand.
Naomi leaned toward her.
“Stay here.”
The instruction was almost impossible.
Isabella had spent months being told to stay still.
Stay seated.
Stay quiet.
Wait for someone else to decide what was best.
Naomi saw the frustration in her eyes.
“I know.”
She lowered her voice.
“But right now I need you safe.”
A faint sound came from the hallway.
A door opening.
Then closing.
The person outside was moving carefully, checking rooms one by one.
Naomi reached for her phone.
No signal.
The power outage had affected more than the lights.
The security system was still active, but the internal network was not responding.
That was not an accident.
She knew it.
The person in the hallway knew the house.
They knew where the blind spots were.
They knew how long the darkness would last.
Naomi moved Isabella away from the piano and toward the small sitting area near the windows.
The room felt enormous without the lights.
Every shadow looked like movement.
Every sound seemed closer than it was.
A soft click came from the door handle.
Naomi looked around quickly.
There was nowhere to hide.
The music room had never been designed for fear.
It was designed for beauty.
A place for conversations.
For performances.
For memories.
Not for someone waiting to find out who had entered.
The door opened slowly.
A figure stepped inside.
Naomi held her breath.
Then the emergency lights turned on.
The person stopped immediately.
It was Luca.
Behind him stood one of his security guards.
Naomi released the breath she had been holding.
Luca looked from her to Isabella.
“Are you both okay?”
“Yes.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Luca noticed.
“What happened?”
“Someone came toward the room.”
The guard moved into the hallway.
“We are checking the house.”
Luca looked at the alarm panel near the door.
“The outage was triggered manually.”
Naomi watched his expression.
“You know that already?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
He looked at the panel.
“Because the system sends a notification before the power fails.”
“Then why did it not notify you?”
The question stayed there.
Luca looked at the security guard.
The man’s face changed.
Not much.
But enough.
“It was blocked.”
Silence followed.
Someone had not simply entered the house.
Someone had prepared.
The security guard walked back into the hallway after checking the area.
“No one found.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“That is impossible.”
The guard looked uncomfortable.
“The cameras were affected.”
“Again?”
Nobody answered.
Naomi felt something cold move through her.
This was no longer about a document.
The document had only revealed the pattern.
Someone had spent months creating opportunities.
Changing records.
Using names.
Controlling information.
And now that Luca had started looking, someone had reacted.
Luca turned toward Naomi.
“Where were you standing when the lights went out?”
“In front of the piano.”
“Did anyone touch the door?”
“No.”
“Did you hear anything unusual before the footsteps?”
Naomi thought.
She almost said no.
Then she remembered.
A sound.
Small.
Almost meaningless.
“The piano.”
Luca looked at it.
“What about it?”
“When the lights went out, I heard something.”
She walked toward the instrument.
“Like something moved.”
The three of them approached the piano carefully.
Luca opened the cover.
Nothing.
The keys remained untouched.
Naomi frowned.
“That is strange.”
“What?”
“I thought I heard the bench.”
Luca looked underneath.
At first, there was nothing.
Then the guard reached down.
His fingers touched something hidden beneath the wood.
A small black envelope.
Nobody spoke.
Luca took it.
He did not open it immediately.
The room had become too quiet.
A hidden envelope beneath the piano.
A missing document.
A disabled camera.
A frightened woman who could not speak freely.
The pieces were beginning to connect.
But Luca had learned something important.
Pieces did not always make the picture people wanted.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a single page.
No signature.
No date.
Just a message.
Luca read it once.
Then again.
Naomi watched the color leave his face.
“What does it say?”
He handed the page to her.
The handwriting was unfamiliar.
But the words were clear.
Your mother was not the only person being controlled.
Naomi looked up.
Luca had already turned away.
“Who else?”
The question came from Naomi.
He did not answer immediately.
Because the answer was not simple.
Because the person who had been controlled might not have been another victim.
It might have been him.
The security guard’s radio crackled.
A voice came through.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Luca grabbed it.
“What?”
“We found someone.”
The room froze.
“Where?”
“In the archive room.”
Luca’s expression changed.
“Who?”
A pause.
Then the voice replied.
“Clara.”
Naomi felt her stomach drop.
“No.”
She did not mean to say it aloud.
But everyone heard.
Luca looked at her.
May you like
The suspicion he had been trying to avoid had arrived.
The person who knew the house.
