"I didn''t mean it."
"Just heed my advice. Marion''s sweet-talk game is stronger than you think. The
news must have covered both kidnapping cases. Figure out why those three are
hiding it from you."
Drake went back to his room, leaving Debra outside.
Her mind was a mess. She couldn''t understand why even Marion chose not to tell
her the truth.
Footsteps creaked upstairs. Debra looked up to see Ivan descending.
Her eyes narrowed. "I told you not to clean the second floor and above. What
were you doing up there?"
Ivan stammered, "I''m sorry. Someone mentioned the attic hadn''t been cleaned in
years. I wanted to help."
"Attic?"
"The one on the third floor. It''s locked, so I came down."
Debra''s pulse quickened as she realized the mastermind was feeding her clues
through Ivan.
She yed dumb. "Alright. Remember, don''te up here again without my
permission."
"Yes, Mrs. Houston." Ivan retreated.
Debra stared at the staircase for a while and turned to look at Andrew''s room. It
was closed and not guarded.
She approached, but her hand
hovered near the knob. That
kidnapping case was a permanent
scar for Andrew. Mentioning it would
do nothing but hurt him again.
She turned away and headed back to her room.
Behind the door, Andrew sat rigidly in his wheelchair. Only when her footsteps
faded did he unclench his fists.
If Debra had knocked on the door
and walked in to ask him everything,
he wouldn''t have been able to hide
without leaving any traces.Content
Fortunately, she didn''te in and put him in a tight spot.
If possible he hoped that she knew
nothing. Those things were all in the
past. Remembering them brought
nothing but pain.
Barton entered, holding an old key. "Sir, the attic key."
Andrew took it, the metal cold in his palm. "Some things shouldn''t remain."
He turned to the window and unclenched his fist. The key slipped from his fingers,
vanishing into the garden below.
The attic held his most precious mementos. Yet his face stayed nk, the pain
locked deeper than any vault.
Barton froze, unsure of what to say.