Chapter 3 - The Secret in the VaultPanic clawed at Arthur's throat. He snatched Leo back into his own arms, ignoring the sharp, sudden wail the infant emitted the moment he was separated from the maid.
"Get out," Arthur choked out, pointing a trembling finger toward the heavy oak doors of the foyer. "Pack your things and get out of my house right now, or I swear to God I will call the police."
Clara didn't flinch. She didn't pack. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, brass key—a key that matched the ornate lock of the estate's private family vault, a room Arthur believed only he had access to.
"You can throw me out, Arthur. You can lock me out, break my phone, and throw me into the street," Clara said calmly, stepping closer despite his glare. "But it won't change the truth. Elena isn't resting in that cemetery plot you bought on the hill. And your son has been crying every night because he knows she’s trapped right beneath our feet."
The foyer seemed to drop another ten degrees.
Elena’s death had been ruled a sudden postpartum hemorrhage—quick, clinical, and quiet. But the hospital records had never made complete sense. The autopsy report had been sealed unusually fast, pushed through by Arthur’s powerful father-in-law, a man who had always despised Arthur’s humble background.
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"You're insane," Arthur whispered, though his legs felt like lead.
"Am I?" Clara pointed a steady finger toward the dark, narrow hallway leading down to the basement. "Go down to the vault, Arthur. Look inside the family crypt chamber. See if the casket is as heavy as it's supposed to be."
