Chapter 2 - THE CRY THAT CHANGED EVERYTHINGFor several seconds, the grand white hall remained frozen.
The marble floor reflected the enormous American flag hanging behind the staircase, while the baby's desperate cries echoed through the mansion like an alarm nobody could silence.
Ethan stood over his wife, Victoria, breathing heavily.
His hands were shaking.
Not because he had just struck her.
Because he had seen what she had done.
His son was still crying in Maria's arms.
The devoted caregiver pressed the baby against her chest, turning her body protectively toward him.
“He's safe,” Maria whispered.
Ethan looked at her.
Then at his son.
Then back at Victoria.
His expression hardened.
“What were you thinking?”
Victoria slowly pushed herself upright.
Her emerald-green dress was wrinkled.
Her perfect makeup had begun to run.
But instead of looking ashamed, she looked furious.
“He is my stepson.”
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
“That doesn't give you the right to hurt him.”
“I wasn't hurting him.”
“You threw him.”
“I was playing.”
“With a six-month-old baby?”
Victoria's voice rose.
“You're making this into something it wasn't.”
Maria stepped forward.
“You know what you did.”
Victoria turned sharply.
“You're a maid.”
Maria didn't flinch.
“I know exactly what I saw.”
Victoria laughed.
“You're protecting your job.”
“No.”
Maria looked at Ethan.
“I'm protecting your son.”
The words landed harder than any accusation.
Ethan slowly walked toward his child.
Maria carefully handed the baby to him.
The moment Ethan held him, the little boy buried his face against his father's chest.
Ethan closed his eyes.
His son was alive.
That was all that mattered.
Then he noticed something.
A faint red mark around the baby's wrist.
His expression changed.
“Maria.”
“Yes?”
“Did he have this before?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
Ethan looked at Victoria.
“Why was he wearing this?”
Victoria stared.
“What?”
The mark was thin.
Almost invisible.
But it looked like a band had been wrapped tightly around the baby's wrist.
Ethan's voice became dangerously calm.
“Who put something around his arm?”
Victoria looked away.
“I don't know.”
Maria suddenly spoke.
“I do.”
Everyone turned.
Maria swallowed.
“I saw Mrs. Victoria put a white bracelet on him this morning.”
Victoria's face changed.
“You're lying.”
“I saw it.”
“Why would I hurt him?”
Maria looked at Ethan.
“Because she was angry.”
Victoria stepped toward her.
“You don't know anything about this family.”
Maria's voice became quieter.
“That's exactly why you should be afraid.”
Silence.
Ethan stared at Maria.
“What does that mean?”
Maria looked toward the hallway.
Then toward the staircase.
“I need to show you something.”
They entered the old servants' corridor.
It was narrow compared with the rest of the mansion.
The walls were painted cream.
Old photographs hung beneath brass lamps.
Maria stopped at a small wooden cabinet.
She unlocked it.
Inside were several files.
Ethan frowned.
“What are those?”
“Things I was told never to touch.”
“By whom?”
Maria looked at Victoria.
“Your mother.”
Ethan froze.
“My mother?”
Maria nodded.
“Before she died.”
Victoria immediately stepped forward.
“Those are private family records.”
Ethan turned.
“Why are you so worried?”
Victoria's expression hardened.
“Because my husband has no right to rummage through old documents.”
Ethan stared at her.
“My family nearly lost a child today.”
He took the files.
“I have every right.”
The first file contained household payroll.
The second contained medical bills.
The third contained a newspaper clipping.
Ethan unfolded it.
The headline was twenty-four years old.
LOCAL SOCIALITE FOUND DEAD AT FAMILY ESTATE.
His stomach tightened.
The photograph beneath the headline showed a young woman.
She looked frightened.
Her name was Rebecca Hale.
Ethan stared.
“I've never seen her.”
Maria whispered:
“You were never supposed to.”
Victoria suddenly grabbed the newspaper.
“Enough.”
Ethan pulled it away.
“Why?”
“Because this has nothing to do with today.”
“Then why is it hidden?”
Victoria said nothing.
Ethan looked at Maria.
“Who was Rebecca?”
Maria lowered her eyes.
“She worked here.”
“As a maid?”
“Yes.”
“How did she die?”
Maria hesitated.
“Everyone said she fell down the staircase.”
Ethan looked toward the grand staircase.
“Everyone?”
Maria nodded.
“But you don't believe that.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Maria's voice trembled.
“Because I cleaned the blood.”
The room went silent.
Ethan looked at the newspaper.
“How much blood?”
Maria closed her eyes.
“Enough to know she didn't fall.”
That night, Ethan locked the nursery door.
His son slept peacefully in the crib.
Ethan stood beside him for nearly an hour.
He couldn't stop thinking about Rebecca.
Or the bracelet.
Or his mother's hidden files.
At midnight, he heard footsteps.
He turned.
Victoria stood in the doorway.
“What do you want?”
She looked at the baby.
“I came to apologize.”
Ethan remained silent.
“I lost control.”
“You almost killed him.”
“I know.”
“No.”
His voice hardened.
“You don't.”
Victoria looked hurt.
“I love you.”
Ethan shook his head.
“You don't get to say that tonight.”
She stepped closer.
“Ethan.”
He backed away.
“Leave.”
Her expression suddenly became cold.
“You're making a mistake.”
“Maybe.”
“You don't know what you're digging into.”
Ethan stared.
“What does that mean?”
Victoria froze.
Then she smiled.
“Nothing.”
She turned.
Before leaving, she whispered:
“Some dead people should stay buried.”
The door closed.
Ethan looked toward the crib.
His son slept peacefully.
But Ethan knew something had changed.
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The past had entered his home.
And it had brought a secret with it.
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