Chapter 1 - The Darkroom
Julian did not wait for the police.
He ordered his head of security to clear the ballroom.
The engagement party was over.
Camille was escorted to the library and locked inside with two guards stationed at the door.
She screamed his name until her voice gave out.
Julian never looked back.
He took Nora to his private office.
He called for his personal physician to treat the welt on her cheek.
Then he made a second call.
To an archivist who specialized in restoring old photographic film.
The man arrived by helicopter thirty minutes later.
He set up a portable darkroom in the adjacent bathroom.
Julian and Nora sat in the office, waiting.
The silence between them was heavy.
Not awkward.
Just carrying the weight of eighteen years.
“Does it hurt?” Julian asked quietly, looking at her cheek.
“A little,” Nora said.
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do it.”
“I brought her into this house.”
Julian looked down at his hands.
“I gave her power. I let her believe she was untouchable.”
He looked at Nora.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone who you were?”
“I didn’t know who I was,” Nora said softly. “I only knew my mother was terrified. She changed our names. She moved us three times before I was ten.”
“Because of the locket.”
“Because she knew someone had killed your mother.”
Julian closed his eyes.
Hearing the words spoken aloud made them real.
His mother hadn’t slipped.
She hadn’t been careless during a storm.
She had been murdered.
The office door opened.
The archivist stepped out, holding a manila folder.
May you like
His face was pale.
“Mr. Hawthorne,” he said. “You need to see this.”
