Chapter 4 - The Room Nobody Was Allowed To Enter
The locked cabinet clicked open.
I stopped.
The small key in my hand felt heavier than it should have.
For three years, everyone in the Vale mansion had searched for answers.
Doctors.
Scientists.
Specialists.
Everyone looked at Ethan and Noah.
Nobody looked at the room where their medicine was kept.
I slowly opened the cabinet.
Inside were several bottles arranged perfectly.
Too perfectly.
Each one had a label.
Each one had a name.
But there was something wrong.
The labels did not match the information Vincent had given me.
I picked up the first bottle.
The name printed on it was not a medication name.
It was a code.
“NV-417.”
My heart tightened.
The same numbers.
4-17-09.
The same numbers scratched into the wall.
The same numbers written on the recording device.
A pattern.
I took out my phone and photographed everything.
Then I noticed something behind the bottles.
A small envelope.
Hidden.
Waiting.
I reached for it.
But before my fingers touched it, the bathroom door moved.
I turned quickly.
Nobody was there.
Only the reflection of the hallway mirror.
For a second, I saw something.
A shadow.
Someone standing behind me.
I spun around.
Nothing.
My breathing became faster.
I grabbed the envelope and walked out.
The boys were still sitting on the bed.
Their eyes immediately moved to the envelope.
They knew.
“You’ve seen this before,” I said.
Ethan looked down.
“We weren’t supposed to.”
“Why?”
“Because he said bad things happen when people ask questions.”
My voice became softer.
“Who said that?”
The twins didn’t answer.
They didn’t need to.
I already knew.
But I needed them to say it.
“Was it Dr. Keller?”
Noah’s eyes filled with fear.
That was my answer.
I sat beside them.
“Listen to me.”
They looked at me.
“You are not in trouble.”
The boys stayed quiet.
“You did nothing wrong.”
Ethan whispered:
“Dad will be angry.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Your dad will want the truth.”
The boys looked at each other.
Then Noah said something that made my blood run cold.
“Dad already knows.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He knows something is wrong.”
“Then why didn’t he stop it?”
The boys looked toward the hallway.
“Because he doesn’t know who to trust.”
Those words stayed with me.
Because they were exactly right.
Vincent Vale had built an empire.
But inside his own home, he was powerless.
That night, I brought everything to Vincent.
The recordings.
The medicine bottles.
The envelope.
He stared at the items on his desk.
For a long time, he didn’t speak.
Then he opened the envelope.
Inside was a single piece of paper.
His expression changed immediately.
“What is it?”
He didn’t answer.
“Vincent?”
He handed me the paper.
It was not a medical report.
It was a schedule.
A detailed schedule.
Ethan and Noah’s daily routine.
Sleep.
Food.
Medication.
Symptoms.
Everything.
But at the bottom was one sentence.
“Continue until dependency is established.”
I felt sick.
Someone had been testing something on them.
Vincent stood up suddenly.
“No.”
His voice cracked.
“No, this can’t be real.”
I watched him walk away from the desk.
A man who had faced investors, competitors, and entire companies without fear.
Now he looked broken.
“Who had access?” I asked.
He ran his hand through his hair.
“Almost everyone.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“It isn’t.”
He started counting.
“Doctors.”
He paused.
“Security.”
“House staff.”
“Family.”
The last word came out differently.
Like it hurt.
“Family?”
Vincent looked away.
“There are people who benefit from my weakness.”
I understood.
Money.
Power.
Inheritance.
The usual reasons people destroyed each other.
But this was different.
This involved children.
“Who was the last person you suspected?”
Vincent didn’t answer immediately.
Then he said:
“My brother.”
I looked at him.
“Your brother?”
“Marcus.”
His expression became cold.
“He disappeared two years ago after a business dispute.”
“And you think he’s involved?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer was honest.
And honesty was rare.
The next morning, Vincent called a private security team.
Not the mansion guards.
Outside investigators.
People he trusted.
Or people he hoped he could trust.
Meanwhile, I stayed with the boys.
They were different after we found the truth.
Not healthier.
Not yet.
But lighter.
Like carrying a secret for years had been exhausting them more than the illness itself.
Ethan sat near the window.
“Are we going to leave?”
I looked at him.
“Do you want to?”
He thought about it.
Then shook his head.
“This is our home.”
That answer surprised me.
Even after everything.
They still loved the place.
Because children did not see houses the way adults did.
They saw memories.
They saw their father.
They saw their bedroom.
They saw where they belonged.
That afternoon, Vincent asked me to meet him downstairs.
When I entered his office, he was holding an old photograph.
A family photograph.
Vincent.
Two young boys.
And a woman.
“Who is she?”
“My wife.”
I looked at him.
“You never mentioned her.”
His expression became painful.
“She died.”
I stayed silent.
“The boys were three.”
He looked at the picture.
“After she died, everything changed.”
I understood.
The mansion was not just a home.
It was a place full of things he had failed to protect.
“My wife always believed people ignored small details.”
He looked at me.
“She used to say the smallest things reveal the biggest lies.”
I thought about the scratch.
The vent.
The hidden device.
The numbers.
“What happened to her?”
Vincent looked down.
“Car accident.”
The answer was simple.
Too simple.
Before I could ask more, his phone rang.
He answered.
“Yes?”
His face changed.
“What?”
I stood immediately.
“What happened?”
He ended the call.
“The security team found something.”
“Where?”
He looked toward the second floor.
“The old east wing.”
I frowned.
“What’s there?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Nothing.”
But I knew that was not true.
People did not send security teams to places where there was nothing.
We walked through a part of the mansion I had never seen.
The east wing was darker.
Older.
Almost forgotten.
The furniture was covered.
The rooms were locked.
“This part of the house hasn’t been used in years,” Vincent said.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer.
At the end of the hallway was one door.
Different from the others.
New lock.
New security system.
Vincent stared at it.
“I don’t understand.”
The security officer standing nearby handed him a report.
“Sir, this room was accessed last night.”
Vincent looked confused.
“By who?”
The officer hesitated.
“We don’t know.”
I looked at the door.
Someone had been hiding something here.
For years.
Vincent entered the code.
The lock beeped.
The door opened slightly.
A cold air escaped from inside.
Then the lights flickered on.
And we saw the walls.
Photographs.
Hundreds of photographs.
All of Ethan and Noah.
From the day they were born.
Until now.
My stomach dropped.
Vincent stepped inside.
His face became completely pale.
Because on the center table was a folder.
With his name written on it.
And underneath his name was another sentence.
May you like
A sentence that made him stop breathing.
“Vincent Vale was never supposed to find out.”
