Chapter 1 - THE SHADOW IN THE NURSERYRichard Sterling carried Maya down the east corridor with one arm wrapped protectively around her tiny body.
The music from the ballroom floated faintly through the walls below—soft strings, polite laughter, crystal glasses chiming together. To the guests downstairs, the Sterling estate was glowing with wealth and elegance.
But upstairs, in his arms, Richard’s daughter trembled like she had escaped something terrible.
“Daddy here,” he whispered again, pressing his cheek against her soft hair. “Nobody is going to hurt you.”
At those words, Maya stopped crying for half a second.
Then she whispered something so small Richard almost missed it.
“No dark.”
Richard froze.
He looked down at her.
“What did you say, sweetheart?”
Maya’s wet lashes fluttered. Her small fingers dug into his tuxedo jacket.
“No dark room.”
Richard felt a cold pressure rise beneath his ribs.
There was no “dark room” in the nursery. Maya’s nursery was a beautiful pastel suite with ivory walls, pink curtains, hand-painted clouds on the ceiling, and a nightlight shaped like a moon. Eleanor had chosen the original design before she died. Richard had preserved it exactly.
He quickened his steps.
When he reached the nursery doors, Mrs. Gable, the night nanny, was not there.
That was the first thing wrong.
Mrs. Gable was always there.
The second thing wrong was the temperature.
The room was cold.
Too cold.
Richard stepped inside slowly. The nursery lamps were on, but one section of the room near the wardrobe sat in shadow. Maya saw it and immediately turned her face into his shoulder.
“No,” she whimpered. “No, Daddy.”
Richard walked toward the wardrobe.
His hand reached for the brass knob.
The door opened with a soft creak.
Inside, beneath a row of tiny dresses, was Maya’s stuffed rabbit.
Its pink ribbon had been torn.
Beside it sat a small porcelain bowl filled with untouched food.
Richard’s throat tightened.
“What the hell…”
A soft sound behind him made him turn.
Mrs. Gable stood in the doorway, pale as bone.
“Mr. Sterling,” she whispered.
“Where were you?”
Her lips parted, but no answer came.
Richard looked from her face to the wardrobe.
Then he looked at Maya.
His daughter was shaking again.
“Mrs. Gable,” Richard said, his voice low, “why is my child afraid of that wardrobe?”
The elderly nanny’s eyes filled with tears.
Before she could answer, Victoria appeared behind her, still wearing her perfect red gown and wounded expression.
“Oh, Richard,” Victoria said softly. “You’re frightening the staff.”
But this time, Richard did not look at his wife.
He looked at Mrs. Gable.
And quietly, he said, “Answer me.”
May you like
Mrs. Gable swallowed hard.
Then she whispered, “Sir… I was told never to open that door.”
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