Chapter 2 - THE LOCKED ROOM
Alexander looked toward the staircase.
“Who else is here?”
Veronica answered too quickly.
“No one.”
Another sound came from upstairs.
A soft thump.
Alexander handed Sofia his phone.
“Stay here.”
Veronica stepped in front of him.
“Alexander, you just got home. You’re exhausted. Don’t turn this into some ridiculous investigation.”
He moved around her.
She grabbed his arm.
“Listen to me.”
Alexander looked down at her hand.
“Let go.”
Something in his voice made her release him.
He climbed the stairs.
Sofia followed anyway.
“Sofia, stay downstairs.”
“No.”
He stopped.
She hugged his jacket tighter around herself.
“I’m coming.”
Veronica came after them.
“This is insane.”
Alexander walked down the second-floor hallway toward the room that had belonged to Sofia’s mother, Elena.
The door had been closed since Elena died three years earlier.
Alexander almost never entered it.
Neither did Sofia.
At least, that was what he believed.
He reached for the knob.
Locked.
He turned toward Veronica.
“Key.”
“I don’t have one.”
Sofia spoke quietly.
“She does.”
Veronica shot her a look.
Alexander saw it.
That look was enough.
“Key.”
Veronica exhaled sharply and pulled a small brass key from her pocket.
Alexander stared at it.
“You carry it?”
“I was cleaning.”
“You?”
She said nothing.
Alexander took the key and opened the door.
The smell hit him first.
Dust.
Old perfume.
And something damp.
He switched on the light.
The room looked nothing like he remembered.
Elena’s framed photographs were stacked face-down against the wall.
Her books had been boxed.
A mattress lay on the floor.
Beside it was a glass of water and an empty plate.
Alexander stopped breathing for a moment.
He looked at Sofia.
“You slept here?”
She nodded.
“How long?”
“One night.”
Veronica crossed her arms.
“She had a tantrum.”
Sofia looked at her father.
“I asked to call you.”
Alexander’s gaze snapped toward Veronica.
“She was hysterical.”
“You stopped her from calling me?”
“She needed discipline.”
Alexander’s voice dropped.
“Did you lock her in this room?”
Veronica rolled her eyes.
“For one night. She had food. She had water. Stop looking at me like I chained her to a wall.”
Sofia looked down.
Alexander walked to the mattress.
Something white stuck out from beneath it.
He bent down.
A folded piece of paper.
He opened it.
Sofia’s handwriting.
DAD,
IF YOU FIND THIS, PLEASE DON’T BE MAD AT ME.
I TRIED TO BE GOOD.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT I KEEP DOING WRONG.
PLEASE COME HOME EARLY ONE DAY.
I MISS YOU.
Alexander read it twice.
Then a third time.
His fingers shook.
Behind him, Veronica said, “Children exaggerate.”
He turned.
“Get out.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Get out of this room.”
“You’re my husband.”
“And she is my daughter.”
Sofia stood perfectly still.
Alexander looked at the mattress again.
There were more papers underneath.
Dozens.
He pulled them out.
Notes.
Dates.
Small handwritten records.
March 8 — No dinner because I forgot to fold towels.
March 19 — She said Dad would send me away if I complained.
April 2 — She made me call her Mrs. Vale when Dad wasn’t home.
April 17 — She threw away Mom’s birthday card.
May 4 — She said Dad loves her more.
Alexander’s chest tightened.
He looked up.
Veronica’s face had changed.
For the first time, there was fear in it.
Then a voice came from the doorway.
“I told Sofia to write everything down.”
They all turned.
A woman stood there holding a suitcase.
Rosa.
The housekeeper Veronica claimed had quit six weeks ago.
Veronica went pale.
Alexander stared at her.
“Rosa?”
Rosa looked directly at him.
“I didn’t quit, Mr. Vale.”
May you like
She pointed at Veronica.
“She fired me because I saw what she was doing to your daughter.”
