Chapter 5 - Shadows of the West Wing
The next morning, Julian felt a clarity he hadn't experienced in months. The heavy, suffocating fog that usually clouded his brain had lifted. The blue pills had been keeping him docile, suppressing the terrifying flashes of memory that haunted his nightmares.
Clara found him in the library, pretending to read a massive encyclopedia.
"Walk with me to the gardens," Clara instructed, her tone perfectly professional for the benefit of the passing maids.
Once they were safely hidden within the sprawling, dense hedges of the estate’s labyrinth, Clara stopped. "Tell me. Now."
Julian looked at his shoes. "It was raining. Like last night. I was supposed to be in bed, but I wanted my bear. I walked to the West Wing. Dad’s private wing."
Clara’s eyes sharpened. "And?"
"I heard shouting. Mom was crying. She said she was going to the police about the company. That she found the offshore accounts." Julian’s voice began to tremble. "Then... there was a loud noise. Like a heavy thud. The crying stopped. When I peeked around the corner, Dad and Mr. Graves were carrying a rolled-up rug down the back stairs. The rug was leaking something dark."
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Clara closed her eyes, letting out a slow, shaky breath. The official story was that Eleanor Vance had abandoned her family in the dead of night, running off to Europe with a lover.
"Julian," Clara said, gripping his shoulders. "We are going to find out where they took her."
