Chapter 2 - The Ghost from the Past
Viral Headline: The Bloody Key in the Velvet Coat: Eleanor Discovers Her Perfect Husband is a Monster!The children were hurried out of the room by a sympathetic older cook, leaving Eleanor, Julian, and Clara alone in the suffocating silence of the dining hall.
"Julian, speak clearly. What are you talking about?" Eleanor demanded, her hands trembling against the silk of her gown.
Julian slammed a faded legal document onto the table, right into a puddle of spilled milk. "Her real name isn't Clara Higgins. It’s Clara Vance. Her late husband, Arthur Vance, was the owner of the textile mill that burned down ten years ago—the very fire that nearly bankrupted the Whitmore expansion."
Eleanor felt the room spin. She remembered the great fire of her youth. It was tragedy that had paved the way for the Whitmore monopoly over the city's industries.
"My husband didn't try to destroy you!" Clara suddenly screamed, finding a desperate courage. Tears streamed down her face. "You ruined him! You bought out our debts, you forced him into a corner, and when he wouldn't sell our family's legacy to you, you—"
"Silence!" Julian roared, stepping toward her with his hand raised.
Eleanor instantly threw herself in front of Clara. "Don't you dare touch her, Julian! If this is true, her husband is dead. She is a widow trying to feed her children. Why does this past matter so much to you now?"
"Because she lies, Eleanor! She took this job under a false name to infiltrate my house!" Julian’s eyes flashed with a dangerous, unstable paranoia. "She is looking for a way to sabotage us. I want her gone, arrested for fraud, tonight!"
Julian stormed out of the room, his heavy footsteps echoing down the long corridor, leaving an atmosphere thick with dread.
That evening, the mansion was dead silent. Julian had locked himself in his private study, refusing to speak to Eleanor. Feeling a deep, unsettling anxiety, Eleanor walked down to the laundry room where Clara was packing her meager belongings into a tattered shawl.
"Clara," Eleanor whispered, stepping inside. "Tell me the truth. Did you come here for revenge?"
Clara fell to her knees, grabbing Eleanor’s hands. "No, Madam! I swear on my children's lives! When my husband died in that factory fire, we lost everything. I changed my name because no one in this city would hire a Vance. Julian Whitmore ensures that anyone associated with my husband's name blacklisted and starved. I came here only because the mansion was hiring, and I desperately needed money for bread."
Clara leaned closer, her voice dropping to a frantic whisper. "But you must protect yourself, Madam. Your husband is not the man you think he is. The night of the fire... my husband had proof that Julian deliberately set it for the insurance money and to eliminate competition. My husband kept that proof in a brass lockbox. Julian has been hunting for it for a decade."
Later that night, unable to sleep, Eleanor watched Julian sleep. His breathing was heavy, fueled by the expensive brandy he had consumed. Moved by a sudden, reckless urge, Eleanor crept over to his velvet traveling coat hanging near the wardrobe.
She slipped her hand into the inner pocket. Her fingers brushed against something cold, heavy, and metallic.
May you like
She pulled it out. It was an intricately designed, old-fashioned brass key.
The Chapter 2 Hook: As the moonlight hit the key, Eleanor gasped and nearly dropped it. Smeared across the ornate brass ridges was a dark, dried substance. It was blood. And it wasn't old.
