Chapter 2 - The Missing Record
In the hotel suite, Eli stood on a towel while Clara cleaned the cuts on his feet.
“You can sit,” she said.
“I don’t like soft chairs.”
“Why?”
“They make it harder to run.”
Julian closed the curtains. “No one is chasing you now.”
Eli looked at the locked door. “That is what Ruth said before the men came.”
Clara dabbed antiseptic onto a cut. “Tell us about Ruth.”
“She raised me at Blackthorn Cottage. She grew beans, fixed clocks, and swore at the radio.”
“Was she your mother?” Julian asked.
“She said she was my keeper.”
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
Clara’s hand stopped. “I’m sorry.”
“She got sick. Before she died, she gave me the moon and told me to find Aurelia House on the night of the winter ball.”
Julian crouched. “Did she say why?”
“She said crowds make cowards behave.”
Clara almost smiled, but Eli continued.
“Then a man came wearing wolf buttons. He searched the cottage and burned Ruth’s papers. I hid under the floor.”
Julian glanced toward the door. “My father has worn those cuff links for twenty years.”
“You still think this is a trick?” Clara asked.
“I think Father is capable of secrets. I do not yet know which one.”
“You knew Mara Quinn’s name.”
Julian rose. “She was the night nurse during the fire.”
“You told me every nurse on that floor died.”
“I told you what Father told me.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only one I had.”
Eli reached into his pocket and produced a square of smoke-stained cloth. A line of blue thread crossed one corner.
Clara took it with shaking fingers. “This came from the blanket I made.”
Julian examined the uneven stitches. “You are certain?”
“You teased me because every third stitch leaned left.”
“I remember.”
“Then stop speaking as if he is evidence and look at him.”
A knock sounded.
Julian opened the door to Theo Brand, his chief of staff.
“The press is asking why the gala ended,” Theo said. “Mr. Vale wants the boy transferred to child services.”
“No,” Clara replied.
Theo lowered his voice. “Legally, he cannot stay here.”
“Legally, my son could not be declared dead without a body.”
Theo’s expression flickered. “Your son?”
“I did not say that to the press.”
“No. Of course not.”
Julian handed him a key card. “Go to the old clinic archive. Bring every record from the night of the fire.”
Theo hesitated. “Silas sealed those files.”
“Then unseal them.”
After he left, Clara said, “He is going straight to your father.”
“Theo has worked for me for nine years.”
“So has your fear.”
Julian looked wounded, but his phone rang before he could answer.
They drove to the abandoned clinic wing under police escort. Dust covered the records room, and one cabinet stood unlocked.
Julian pulled out the birth ledger. “Here. Baby Vale. Male. Six minutes.”
Clara pointed to a darker line beneath the entry. “The ink was altered.”
Eli peered over the desk. “Ruth taught me old paper. New ink shines.”
Julian angled the page under a lamp. Beneath the death notation, faint numbers appeared.
“Transfer authorization,” he read. “Ward K-17.”
“There was no Ward K,” Clara said.
A crash sounded in the corridor.
Julian ran out. The escorting officer lay dazed beside a broken fire extinguisher.
Clara spun her chair back toward Eli.
The room was empty.
On the floor lay the silver crescent.
“No,” she whispered.
Julian checked the service stairwell while Clara called security. Minutes later, Theo arrived with a tablet.
“I found the corridor footage,” he said.
The screen showed an older woman entering the archive. Eli saw her, ran forward, and let her embrace him. Then she led him away.
Julian stared at the frozen image.
“Mara Quinn,” he said.
Clara turned on him. “You said you only knew her name.”
“I saw her once after the fire.”
“When?”
“Three years ago. Father told me she was unstable. He made me promise not to tell you.”
“You promised him?”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“You were protecting the story that kept you comfortable.”
Her phone rang from an unknown number.
Clara answered. “Where is he?”
A woman’s breath shook over the line.
“Eli is safe,” Mara said. “For the moment.”
“Bring him back.”
“Come to Saint Orison’s chapel before midnight. No police. No Silas.”
Clara looked at Julian.
May you like
Mara’s next words were barely a whisper.
“And do not trust the man standing beside you.”
