Chapter 4 - The Coffin Had Been Empty
Vincent took the photograph without speaking.
He studied the newspaper.
The date.
Sophia’s face.
Her wedding ring.
Her eyes.
Elena waited.
Finally he said, “It could be fabricated.”
“It could.”
“But you don’t think so.”
“No.”
Vincent sat on the edge of Lily’s bed.
For the first time, Elena saw him look exhausted rather than dangerous.
“Who identified Sophia’s body?” she asked.
“My uncle.”
“Dorian?”
“Yes.”
“Why not you?”
His jaw tightened.
“The car burned.”
Elena understood.
“Closed casket.”
Vincent nodded.
“Dorian told me not to see her.”
That answer changed everything.
Vincent immediately ordered Sophia’s grave opened.
The cemetery director objected until Vincent’s attorneys arrived.
By late afternoon, the coffin stood beneath a temporary tent.
Vincent refused to let Elena accompany him.
She went anyway.
When the lid opened, there were remains inside.
But the forensic pathologist Vincent had hired noticed something almost immediately.
Dental work did not match Sophia’s records.
Vincent stood completely still.
“Who is she?” he asked.
The pathologist could not answer yet.
But she was not Sophia.
Vincent walked away from the grave.
Elena found him near a stone wall.
“She may be alive,” Elena said.
He did not respond.
“That’s good.”
“Is it?”
She frowned.
Vincent looked at her.
“If she was alive, why didn’t she come back for the girls?”
Elena had no answer.
He looked toward the grave.
“For eighteen months my daughters kissed a dead woman’s photograph.”
“She may not have had a choice.”
Vincent’s expression shifted.
“You believe that?”
“I believe someone built a room under your house to psychologically torment children.”
That landed.
“Whatever explanation seems impossible,” Elena said, “is probably not impossible anymore.”
They returned to the mansion.
Marcus had found a second hidden corridor.
It connected Dorian’s office to a service tunnel beneath the east garden.
Whoever had escaped during the blackout could have left unseen.
But Dorian’s records revealed something else.
Monthly transfers.
Large amounts.
Sent to a medical facility in northern New York.
The facility specialized in neurological rehabilitation.
The patient name attached to the payments:
Sarah Vale.
Fake.
But the date of admission was the morning after Sophia’s crash.
Vincent did not wait.
They flew north that night.
Elena stayed because the twins refused to sleep without her.
Vincent initially planned to leave them with Celeste.
Then Lily began screaming the moment he walked toward the door.
So the twins came too, accompanied by guards.
The clinic director denied knowing Sophia.
Marcus showed him the transactions.
He became nervous.
Vincent said, “You have thirty seconds.”
The director lasted eleven.
Sarah Vale had arrived eighteen months earlier.
Severe burns.
Head trauma.
Drugged.
No identification.
Private payments guaranteed silence.
“She woke after two weeks,” the director explained.
“And?”
“She had memory loss.”
Vincent’s face tightened.
“How long?”
“Several months.”
“Where is she?”
The director looked frightened.
“She disappeared.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
Elena saw Vincent’s hope collapse.
“Did anyone visit her?”
The director checked archived records.
One visitor.
Every month.
Dorian Starks.
But another name appeared once.
Adrian Starks.
Vincent stared at it.
His supposedly dead brother had visited his supposedly dead wife.
Marcus asked for surveillance footage.
Most had been deleted.
One clip survived.
Sophia walked slowly down a clinic corridor.
Bandages covered one side of her face.
Dorian walked beside her.
She stopped.
Turned toward the camera.
And looked directly into it.
Alive.
Vincent gripped the edge of the desk.
Elena touched his arm.
He did not pull away.
“Where did she go after disappearing?” Marcus asked.
The director opened another file.
“She left a note.”
Vincent read it.
Three lines.
If Vincent finds this, tell him I remembered.
Tell him Adrian knows everything.
Tell him not to trust Celeste.
Vincent closed his eyes.
Elena’s heartbeat quickened.
Celeste was at the mansion.
With staff.
With access.
And they had trusted her.
Vincent called immediately.
No answer.
Marcus called security.
No answer.
Then one guard picked up.
His voice shook.
“Sir…”
Vincent stood.
“What happened?”
“Ms. Celeste locked herself in the nursery.”
Vincent went cold.
“The twins are with me.”
“I know.”
A pause.
“She says she has Sophia.”
The line went dead.
They returned by helicopter.
The mansion was surrounded.
Celeste remained inside the nursery.
Vincent approached alone.
Elena followed until Marcus stopped her.
She ignored him and continued.
Vincent knocked.
“Celeste.”
Her voice came through.
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Open the door.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Open it.”
“You won’t understand.”
Vincent’s hand tightened.
“Then explain.”
Silence.
Finally the lock clicked.
Celeste stood inside.
She was crying.
Behind her, the nursery appeared empty.
Vincent stepped in.
“Where is Sophia?”
Celeste pointed toward the closet.
Vincent opened it.
No Sophia.
Just a laptop.
Live video played on screen.
A woman sat tied to a chair.
Her face thinner.
A burn scar along one cheek.
But unmistakable.
Sophia.
Alive.
Vincent whispered her name.
The woman lifted her head.
“Vincent?”
He stepped closer to the screen.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“My girls…”
“They’re safe.”
Sophia sobbed once.
Then someone entered frame.
A man.
Older than Vincent.
Scar on his left cheek.
Adrian.
Vincent stared at his brother.
Seven years dead.
Standing alive beside his wife.
Adrian looked into the camera.
“Hello, little brother.”
Vincent’s entire body became still.
“Where are you?”
Adrian smiled.
“You’ll come.”
“What do you want?”
“The same thing I wanted seven years ago.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
“My life?”
Adrian shook his head.
“Your confession.”
The screen went black.
A message appeared.
MIDNIGHT. OLD STARKS SHIPYARD. COME ALONE.
Elena looked at Vincent.
He was already reaching for his coat.
Then the nursery door slammed behind them.
Celeste locked it.
May you like
And whispered:
“You can’t go, Vincent. Adrian doesn’t want a confession. He wants you dead.”
