CHAPTER 2: THE YELLOW ROOM
The nursery door stood open.
Nathaniel couldn't remember the last time he had seen it that way.
For three years, it had remained shut.
Locked.
Untouched.
Like a tomb.
A cold breeze drifted from the room.
Behind him, Maria whispered nervously.
"Nathaniel… maybe we should go downstairs."
But he couldn't move away.
Because Lily's tiny hand had slipped into his.
And the child was looking at the nursery as though someone stood inside.
"She's waiting," Lily said softly.
Nathaniel's heart pounded.
"Who is waiting?"
"The little girl."
Maria crossed herself.
"Sweetheart, there's nobody in there."
Lily frowned.
"Yes, there is."
Then she pointed.
"She's standing beside the rocking chair."
Nathaniel slowly looked into the room.
Nothing.
Just shadows.
The pale yellow walls.
The white crib.
The moonlight spilling through the curtains.
And the rocking chair.
It moved.
Just once.
Back.
Then forward.
Nathaniel's blood turned to ice.
No windows were open.
No fan was running.
Yet the chair moved again.
Creak.
Creak.
Maria let out a frightened gasp.
"Nathaniel…"
But he stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
He crossed the threshold for the first time in three years.
The room smelled exactly the same.
Baby powder.
Lavender.
Sarah's perfume.
Impossible.
His breathing became shallow.
Every object was exactly where she had left it.
The tiny socks folded inside a basket.
The stuffed elephant in the crib.
The mobile hanging from the ceiling.
And on the dresser…
A framed ultrasound picture.
Their daughter.
The child they never met.
Nathaniel reached for it with trembling fingers.
Then memories attacked him.
Sarah laughing.
Sarah painting the walls yellow.
Sarah placing his hand on her belly.
"She's kicking, Nate."
Their future.
Their dreams.
Everything that had died on an icy road.
A sob escaped him.
Behind him, Lily suddenly spoke.
"She says you're sorry."
Nathaniel froze.
"What?"
Lily looked at the empty rocking chair.
"She says you shouldn't be sorry anymore."
The billionaire's knees nearly gave out.
Sorry.
He had lived with that word every day.
Sorry he couldn't protect Sarah.
Sorry he had worked too much.
Sorry he had left home early that morning.
Sorry he had survived.
He slowly turned toward Lily.
"Did Grandma tell you that?"
The child shook her head.
"The pretty girl did."
Maria looked terrified.
"Sweetheart, enough. It's late."
But Lily continued.
"She says Mommy wasn't mad."
Nathaniel stopped breathing.
Nobody knew that.
Nobody.
Because every night for three years, he had replayed their final argument.
The last conversation with Sarah.
The one that haunted him.
That morning she had begged him not to travel.
The roads were dangerous.
A storm was coming.
But he had insisted on leaving.
They argued.
He kissed her goodbye anyway.
And the last words Sarah ever spoke to him were:
"I'm angry with you, Nathaniel."
He had carried that guilt like a prison sentence.
Yet now this little girl was saying…
"Mommy wasn't mad."
His voice trembled.
"Lily… how could you know that?"
The child looked confused.
"Because she told me."
Silence.
Then—
A loud bang exploded downstairs.
Everyone jumped.
Another bang.
Then another.
Someone was pounding on the front door.
At nearly midnight.
Maria looked frightened.
"Who could that be?"
The security system suddenly beeped.
A voice echoed through the hallway.
"Mr. Cross?"
It was one of the guards.
"Sir, there's a woman here."
Nathaniel frowned.
"A woman?"
"Yes, sir. She says she knew your wife."
The room went silent.
Knew your wife.
The words made his stomach twist.
"What's her name?" he called.
The answer came a few seconds later.
"She says her name is Claire Donovan."
Nathaniel's face turned white.
Maria gasped.
Because Claire Donovan had disappeared three years ago.
The night Sarah died.
She had been Sarah's best friend.
And after the funeral, she vanished without explanation.
No calls.
No letters.
Nothing.
Nathaniel rushed downstairs.
The front door opened.
Rain poured outside.
And there she stood.
Claire.
Older.
Thinner.
Her face pale with fear.
She looked at Nathaniel as if she'd seen a ghost.
Then she said the words that changed everything.
"You need to sit down."
He stared at her.
"What happened?"
She swallowed hard.
"I lied to you."
The room became silent.
"What are you talking about?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"The accident…"
She took a shaky breath.
"It wasn't an accident."
Thunder exploded outside.
Nathaniel's heart stopped.
"What?"
Claire stepped forward.
Her voice broke.
"Sarah called me that morning. She was terrified."
"TERRIFIED OF WHAT?"
"She said someone was following her."
The color drained from Nathaniel's face.
"What are you saying?"
Claire reached into her bag.
Then she pulled out a small envelope.
Yellowed with age.
Sealed.
Across the front, written in Sarah's handwriting, were four words:
FOR NATHANIEL. IF I DIE.
The billionaire couldn't breathe.
Claire placed the envelope in his shaking hands.
"I've been hiding this for three years."
"Why?"
She began crying.
"Because someone threatened to kill me if I ever gave it to you."
The entire mansion fell silent.
Even the rain seemed to stop.
Nathaniel looked at the envelope.
Then back at Claire.
"Who?"
She lifted her tear-filled eyes.
And whispered:
"The person who murdered your wife… is someone you trust."
At that exact moment—
Lily, standing at the top of the staircase, suddenly screamed.
Everyone looked up.
The little girl was staring into the darkness behind them.
Her face had gone completely pale.
Then she whispered:
"She's here again…"
"Who?" Nathaniel shouted.
Lily pointed directly at the envelope in his hands.
And said:
May you like
"The pretty lady says…
Don't open that letter alone."
