Chapter 3 - THE NIGHT THEY LEFT BLACKWOOD HOUSE
Ethan locked his bedroom door behind them and immediately pushed his desk against it. Lily stood in the middle of the room, still holding her cheek. The adrenaline that had carried her out of the library was fading, and now the pain in her face, hip, and shoulder was becoming real.
Ethan knelt in front of her. “Let me see.” “I’m okay.” “No, you’re not.” He gently turned her face toward the window. The outline of Richard’s hand had already become visible across her cheek. Ethan’s expression darkened. Lily saw his jaw tighten and grabbed his sleeve.
“Don’t go back down.” He looked at her. “Please.” For a moment, he seemed torn between rage and responsibility. Then he nodded. “I’m not leaving you.” He took photographs of the mark on her face, then opened the voice recorder on his phone and asked her to describe exactly what had happened in the library. Lily’s voice trembled, but she did it. Ethan recorded his own account afterward.
“Why are we doing this?” she asked. “Because people who lie this much count on everyone being too scared to keep records.” Lily looked toward the door. “Do you think Richard will call the police?” “He might.” “Wouldn’t that be good?”
“Maybe. But if he controls the story first, we need proof.” Ethan connected his phone to his laptop and uploaded every photograph to three places: his private email, a cloud drive, and a folder he sent to his best friend, Marcus Reed, with a message that read: If I call you, come get us. Don’t ask questions on text.
Then he photographed the letter Lily had hidden beneath her sweater. The final paragraph contained a sentence neither of them had noticed downstairs. Ethan read it twice. “If you find these letters after your eighteenth birthday, contact Sarah Mercer before speaking to Richard about the trust. She has copies of documents I was able to recover after the accident. The key belongs to a storage box I rented under my maiden name. What is inside can prove the signatures were forged.”
Lily looked up. “Do we call her?” “Yes.” Ethan dialed the number on the business card. It rang four times. A woman answered. “Mercer Legal.” Ethan swallowed. “I need to speak with Sarah Mercer.” “This is Sarah.” He hesitated.
“My name is Ethan Bennett.” Silence. Not normal silence. Recognition. The woman’s voice changed. “Ethan?” “Yes.” “Where are you?” “At Blackwood House.” Another pause. “Is Lily with you?” Ethan looked at his sister. “Yes.” “Listen carefully. Do not confront Richard again. Do not give him the key. Do not give him the letters. If you can leave safely, leave.”
Ethan’s pulse accelerated. “You knew my mother.” “I do.” Present tense. Ethan sat down. “You know her now?” Sarah exhaled. “Yes.” Lily’s eyes widened. Ethan put the phone on speaker. “Is she alive?” “Yes.” The word seemed to fill the entire room.
Lily made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob. Ethan stared at the phone. “Where is she?” “I cannot tell you that while you are still inside that house.” “Why?” “Because Richard has spent years monitoring anyone connected to Claire. I’ve been waiting for you to turn eighteen so I could legally contact you without him blocking access as your guardian. Claire asked me not to take risks that might endanger Lily.”
Ethan looked at the door. A floorboard creaked in the hall. He lowered his voice. “We found the hidden room.” Sarah went quiet again. “What hidden room?” “Behind the library.” This silence was different. Sarah sounded genuinely surprised.
“What did you find?” “Letters. Trust records. A notebook. Mom’s suitcase.” “Photograph everything.” “We did.” “Send it to me.” Ethan did. While the files uploaded, Lily sat beside him on the bed, gripping his hand. Sarah remained on the call.
When the first photographs arrived, she inhaled sharply. “Oh my God.” “What?” “That notebook. Ethan, I’ve never seen it before.” “What is it?” “It appears to be Richard’s own record of intercepted correspondence. If authentic, it may prove deliberate concealment.”
Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway. Someone tried the door handle. Richard. “Ethan,” he called. “Open the door.” Sarah heard him through the speaker. “Do not open it,” she said. Richard knocked harder. “Ethan, this is ridiculous. We need to talk like adults.”
Ethan whispered, “What do we do?” “Can you reach another exit?” Ethan looked toward the window. His room was on the second floor. No. Lily pointed toward the adjoining bathroom. Beyond it was a narrow hallway leading to the old servants’ staircase.
Ethan nodded. “We can.” “Take identification, medication, chargers, and anything you absolutely need. Leave everything else.” A loud thud hit the bedroom door. The desk jumped. Lily flinched. Richard’s voice sharpened. “Open this door now.” Ethan grabbed two backpacks. He stuffed in clothes, Lily’s inhaler, their passports from his small lockbox, chargers, his laptop, and a framed photograph of their mother.
Lily took her stuffed rabbit from the bed. Another impact rattled the door. Victoria’s voice came from the hallway. “Richard, stop. The staff can hear you.” He shouted back, “I don’t care.” That told Ethan they had very little time.
He moved the backpacks into the bathroom. Then he heard another voice downstairs. A woman’s. “Mr. Vale?” Martha Greene. The housekeeper. She had worked for Claire before Richard ever moved into Blackwood House. Ethan opened the bathroom door and led Lily into the servants’ hall.
The staircase was narrow and dim. They moved quietly downward. At the bottom, Martha stood near the kitchen pantry holding a basket of folded towels. Her gray hair was pulled into its usual tight bun, but her eyes widened when she saw the backpacks.
Then she saw Lily’s face. The basket fell. “Oh, sweetheart.” Lily ran into her arms. Martha held her, staring over Lily’s head at Ethan. “Richard did that?” Ethan nodded. Martha closed her eyes briefly. Something in her expression suggested this was not the first terrible thing she had suspected.
“We need to leave,” Ethan said. Martha looked toward the main hallway. “The front door is watched by the security cameras.” “Is there another way?” “The old greenhouse entrance.” She took Lily’s hand. “Come.” They crossed the kitchen and passed through the pantry into a mudroom. Martha reached above a cabinet and took down a ring of keys.
“Your mother used this route when photographers waited out front,” she said. Ethan stared at her. “You knew Mom was alive?” Martha froze. “No.” “But you knew something.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I knew she would never abandon you willingly.”
Footsteps pounded above them. Richard had entered Ethan’s room. A shout followed. “They’re gone!” Martha unlocked the greenhouse door. Cold rain blew inside. “Go,” she said. Ethan hesitated. “Come with us.” “I will handle myself.” “Martha—” She pressed a key into his hand.
It was a car key. “Take my Subaru. It’s behind the greenhouse. Sarah Mercer will know what to do.” Ethan stared at her. “How do you know Sarah?” Martha’s face changed. “Because your mother trusted two people before she disappeared.”
“Who?” “Sarah.” Martha swallowed. “And me.” A shout echoed from the kitchen. Victoria. “Martha!” The housekeeper pushed Ethan toward the rain. “Go!” Ethan grabbed Lily’s hand. They ran. The greenhouse glass flashed silver beneath the storm. Rain soaked them instantly as they crossed the stone path toward the small blue Subaru parked beside the gardener’s shed.
Behind them, a door slammed open. Richard emerged onto the terrace. “Ethan!” They reached the car. Ethan unlocked it, threw the bags into the back, and pushed Lily into the passenger seat. Richard ran across the lawn. For an instant Ethan thought he might reach them.
Then Martha stepped out behind him. “Richard!” He turned. She held her phone in the air. “I called the police.” Richard stopped. The distance was enough. Ethan started the car. The engine caught. He reversed hard across the gravel, shifted into drive, and accelerated toward the service gate.
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Lily twisted in her seat. Through the rain, Blackwood House disappeared behind the trees. She had never left it without knowing when she would return. She should have been terrified. Instead, she held the photograph of her mother in both hands.
“Where are we going?” she asked. Ethan looked at the road ahead. First to Sarah Mercer. Then to wherever the truth led. And, if Claire Bennett was really alive, perhaps all the way back to the woman they had spent seven years believing had left them behind.
