Chapter 2 - The Voice Behind the Walls
For several seconds, no one moved.
The chandeliers still glittered.
Champagne still bubbled in abandoned glasses.
Three hundred of the most influential people in the city stood inside Luca Vale’s ballroom, but the atmosphere had changed from glittering superiority to something closer to fear.
Nora rose from the piano bench.
“Who said that?”
No answer came.
Luca’s head of security, Marco Dain, touched the earpiece in his right ear.
“Control room, report.”
Static.
Marco’s expression hardened.
“Control room?”
Nothing.
Celeste stepped toward Luca.
“This is absurd. Open the doors.”
Luca looked at her.
“You seem nervous.”
“I’m annoyed.”
“You look nervous.”
“I was humiliated in front of half Manhattan because your maid decided to stage a performance.”
“She isn’t my maid.”
Celeste glanced at Nora.
“She’s wearing an apron, Luca.”
Nora’s face burned.
But Luca’s voice remained flat.
“She’s employed by the catering company.”
Celeste gave a short laugh.
“As if the distinction matters.”
“It seems to matter to you.”
Nora looked at the photograph again.
Her father appeared younger than she remembered him.
Daniel Bennett stood beside the piano with one hand resting on its polished edge.
Next to him stood Victor Vale, Celeste’s late father.
Behind them were two other men Nora did not recognize.
Across the bottom someone had written a date.
October 14.
Thirteen years earlier.
Three days before Daniel Bennett vanished.
Nora felt the room tilt.
Her father’s disappearance had destroyed their family.
Police said he had fled after stealing money from a charitable arts foundation.
Newspapers had called him a fraud.
Donors demanded repayment.
Their home was seized.
Her mother stopped leaving the apartment.
Nora’s scholarship disappeared.
And when Daniel’s car was later discovered near a river, everyone assumed he had killed himself.
No body had ever been recovered.
Nora had spent thirteen years trying not to wonder.
Now his photograph was inside Luca Vale’s pocket.
“Why do you have this?”
Luca’s eyes remained on the ballroom exits.
“My father kept it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
That answer surprised her.
Luca looked toward Marco.
“Find out who locked us in.”
Marco signaled two guards.
Nora turned toward Celeste.
She was looking at the photograph.
Her face was pale.
“You knew him.”
Celeste’s eyes snapped toward Nora.
“I knew hundreds of people.”
“My father.”
“I was nineteen.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Celeste lifted her chin.
“I knew who he was.”
“What happened to him?”
“I have no idea.”
Nora took one step closer.
Celeste stepped backward.
That was all Nora needed to see.
“You’re lying.”
“Careful.”
“Why?”
Celeste’s voice dropped.
“Because you have absolutely no idea where you are.”
Nora looked around the ballroom.
“No. I think I finally do.”
Before Celeste could respond, the speakers crackled again.
This time a recording began.
Piano music.
Three notes.
The opening of The Fifth Winter.
But it was not Nora’s performance.
The recording was old.
There was static beneath it.
Then a man spoke.
Nora stopped breathing.
She knew the voice.
“Nora, if you ever hear this—”
Her knees weakened.
“Dad?”
Every head in the ballroom turned toward her.
The recording continued.
“—then someone made a mistake.”
The sound cut.
Nora rushed toward the nearest speaker.
“No!”
Silence.
“Play it again!”
Nothing.
Luca looked toward Marco.
“Find the source.”
“We’re trying.”
“Try faster.”
Celeste moved toward an exit.
One of Luca’s guards blocked her.
She stared at him.
“Move.”
“No one leaves.”
Celeste turned on Luca.
“You cannot imprison your guests.”
“Someone accessed my security system.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“Then waiting shouldn’t bother you.”
Nora barely heard them.
Her father’s voice still echoed inside her head.
If you ever hear this, then someone made a mistake.
He had recorded that message.
For her.
Why?
And how had it ended up inside Luca Vale’s house?
The old man who had dropped his glass approached.
His name, Nora learned, was Julian Cross.
He had once chaired the board of the Manhattan Metropolitan Conservatory.
He looked at Nora almost sadly.
“I knew your father.”
Nora turned.
“How well?”
“Well enough to know he didn’t steal that money.”
Everything inside her went still.
“What did you say?”
Julian glanced toward Luca.
Luca nodded once.
Julian exhaled.
“The Bennett Foundation scandal was never what the newspapers reported.”
Nora’s throat tightened.
“My mother lost everything because of those reports.”
“I know.”
“My father was called a thief.”
“I know.”
“I was seventeen.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
Julian’s eyes dropped.
“Because I was afraid.”
Nora laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Of what?”
Julian looked toward the Vale family portraits lining the far wall.
“Of the men whose money your father discovered.”
Celeste interrupted.
“That’s enough.”
Julian turned toward her.
“You sound exactly like Victor.”
Celeste’s face hardened.
“Do not mention my father.”
“Why? He’s dead.”
Celeste stepped closer.
“Exactly.”
Luca watched the exchange.
Nora watched Luca.
“You knew none of this?”
He met her eyes.
“My father kept secrets even from me.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Yes.”
Again, the bluntness startled her.
Luca handed her the photograph.
“Keep it.”
Celeste reacted instantly.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
Celeste recovered too late.
Luca’s voice became dangerously soft.
“Why not?”
“I simply don’t think family property should be handed to staff.”
Nora stared at her.
Luca stared longer.
Then he placed the photograph directly in Nora’s hand.
Celeste’s expression tightened.
Marco crossed the ballroom quickly.
“We found the lock override.”
“Where?”
“Music room upstairs.”
Luca’s face changed.
“The old room?”
Marco nodded.
“That room has been sealed for eleven years.”
Nora looked down at the photograph.
Her father had been standing beside this piano.
Luca’s father had stored the picture.
Her father’s recorded voice had just played through the speakers.
And now the system had been accessed from a sealed music room.
“I’m going upstairs.”
Luca shook his head.
“No.”
“You don’t get to tell me that.”
“Someone just trapped three hundred people inside my house.”
“My father’s voice came through those speakers.”
“That is exactly why you’re not going alone.”
Nora looked at him.
“I didn’t ask you to come.”
“You won’t have to.”
They left the ballroom with Marco and two guards.
Behind them, voices rose as guests demanded explanations.
Celeste remained near the piano.
Watching.
Nora noticed.
So did Luca.
They climbed a broad staircase beneath portraits of generations of Vales.
The upper corridor was darker.
Quieter.
At the end stood a pair of carved wooden doors.
A heavy chain hung from the handles.
But the chain had been cut.
Fresh metal gleamed where the links had broken.
Marco drew his weapon.
Nora’s breathing changed.
Luca noticed.
“You can wait here.”
“No.”
Marco pushed one door.
It opened slowly.
Dust covered the floor.
An old upright piano stood beneath a sheet.
There were bookshelves.
A fireplace.
A reel-to-reel recorder.
And one chair positioned in the middle of the room.
On the chair sat a small black cassette player.
Its red light was blinking.
Nora approached.
“Nora,” Luca warned.
She pressed PLAY.
Her father’s voice filled the room.
“If you’re hearing this, they found the score.”
Nora covered her mouth.
The tape continued.
“The music is not the secret. The rests are.”
Luca looked at her.
Nora looked toward the sheet music scattered across the piano.
“The rests?”
Then another sound came from inside the room.
A click.
Marco spun around.
The bookcase behind them moved.
A narrow hidden doorway appeared.
May you like
And from the darkness beyond it, someone whispered Nora’s childhood nickname.
“Nor…”
