Chapter 7 - The Woman in the Portrait
The Harrington files were not in Adrian’s study.
Not in the family archive.
Not in the safe.
Not anywhere Bianca remembered.
Her only clue was something her mother had said when Bianca was seven:
“If anyone ever lies about what happened, look where Eleanor never looks.”
Adrian frowned.
“My mother looks everywhere.”
Sophie glanced around the mansion.
Then she noticed the portraits.
Generations of Blackwoods.
Men.
Women.
Children.
But no Harringtons.
“Where does Eleanor never look?”
Adrian followed her gaze.
“The servants’ corridor.”
An old portrait hung there.
A woman in blue.
Adrian’s grandmother.
The frame was crooked.
Behind it sat a shallow recess.
Inside was an envelope.
HARRINGTON.
Sophie’s pulse jumped.
They opened it in the library.
Bank statements.
Letters.
Photographs.
One recorded statement transcribed by hand.
The signature belonged to Bianca’s mother, Celeste Harrington.
I witnessed Victor Blackwood instruct Marcus Hale to destroy the original audit.
If anything happens to me, Grace Bennett has the second copy.
Adrian sat back.
“There it is.”
Sophie kept reading.
Another name appeared.
Eleanor Blackwood.
Sophie looked up.
“Your mother knew.”
Adrian went still.
The next document was worse.
A transfer authorization for two million dollars.
Recipient:
GRACE BENNETT.
Authorized by:
ELEANOR BLACKWOOD.
Date:
Two days after Charles died.
Sophie’s chest tightened.
“Two million?”
Adrian looked equally shocked.
Eleanor had described monthly support.
She had never mentioned this.
Sophie continued searching.
A handwritten memo lay beneath the transfer.
Payment made in exchange for permanent silence.
Sophie stood.
“No.”
Adrian read it.
His face changed.
“Sophie—”
“She paid my mother to stay quiet.”
“We don’t know that.”
“It says permanent silence.”
Adrian called Eleanor into the library.
She entered.
Saw the paper.
And stopped.
“Explain.”
Adrian’s voice was harder than Sophie had ever heard.
Eleanor looked at Sophie.
“I hoped you would never see that.”
“Why?”
“Because it looks worse than it was.”
Sophie laughed bitterly.
“That sentence should be engraved over the front door of this house.”
Eleanor flinched.
“The payment wasn’t hush money.”
“Then what was it?”
“A settlement.”
“For what?”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“Your father.”
Sophie froze.
“My father?”
Eleanor nodded.
“Grace never told you who he was.”
“No.”
“She had reasons.”
“Who was he?”
Eleanor looked at Adrian.
Then back at Sophie.
“His name was Thomas Reed.”
Sophie shook her head.
“I’ve never heard that name.”
“He worked for Blackwood security.”
“What happened to him?”
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
“He died in the archive fire.”
Sophie stopped breathing.
“The fire Victor started?”
“We could never prove Victor started it.”
“Did my father know about the ledger?”
“Yes.”
“Was he helping my mother?”
“Yes.”
Sophie gripped the table.
“So she lost the man she loved, nearly died herself, watched Charles die two weeks later, and then you paid her two million dollars.”
Eleanor nodded.
“For Thomas’s death?”
“In part.”
“In part?”
Eleanor whispered:
“And because Grace agreed to disappear with you.”
Sophie stared.
“Why?”
Eleanor looked toward the door.
“Because Victor believed Thomas had given Grace something before he died.”
“What?”
“Nobody knew.”
Sophie thought about her mother’s old watch.
The hidden key.
The postcard.
Grace’s obsession with keeping ordinary objects.
Then Adrian’s phone buzzed.
A security notification.
Someone had entered Sophie’s apartment.
The camera showed a masked man carrying boxes toward the alley.
Sophie recognized them instantly.
May you like
Her mother’s belongings.
Someone was taking everything Grace had left behind.
