Chapter 5 - The Missing Hour.
Emma had never told Adrian that her mother once worked for the Mercers.
The truth came out slowly in Noah’s room while rain began tapping against the tall windows.
Her mother, Rose Hale, had been a temporary housekeeper at Mercer House almost fifteen years earlier.
She stayed only six months.
Then she left suddenly and refused to explain why.
“She always said the house was beautiful but full of closed doors,” Emma said.
Adrian stared at the brass tag marked 317.
“Why did you apply here if she had a bad experience?”
“Because she never said the family was cruel.”
Emma looked toward Noah, who had fallen asleep with the toy stethoscope still around his neck.
“She said the people inside the house were sometimes protected from things they should have known.”
Daniel frowned.
“Did she ever mention Eleanor?”
Emma’s silence was answer enough.
Adrian felt a fresh wave of disbelief.
“My father trusted Eleanor more than almost anyone.”
“Maybe that was the problem,” Emma said quietly.
The words stung, but Adrian could not reject them.
Daniel returned to the briefcase and removed a timeline he had built from gate records.
“There is another issue.”
He pointed to a blank stretch between 1:00 and 2:00 a.m. on three different nights.
“The digital system shows a missing hour each time the van appears.”
“Missing?” Adrian asked.
“The logs were manually overwritten.”
Emma looked toward the hallway.
“Can Eleanor do that?”
“She can authorize a reset.”
A soft knock interrupted them.
It was Marcus, the night guard, an older man who had worked at the estate for eleven years.
He looked deeply uncomfortable.
“Mr. Mercer, I think I should tell you something.”
Adrian stepped into the hall with him.
Marcus explained that Eleanor had ordered him to leave the west camera system offline during several late-night inventory checks.
She claimed electrical work would trigger false alarms.
“Why did you not tell me?” Adrian asked.
“She said you approved it.”
“Did you ever see my approval?”
Marcus looked down.
“No, sir.”
Adrian dismissed him with instructions to remain available.
When he returned, Daniel was staring at the brass tag.
“St. Vincent’s closed ten years ago.”
Emma nodded.
“My mother kept some things from there in a storage box.”
“Where is she now?”
Emma looked away.
“She died three years ago.”
Adrian’s anger softened.
“I am sorry.”
Emma thanked him and then added something that made Daniel sit straighter.
“Before she died, she gave me a sealed envelope.”
Adrian’s attention sharpened.
“What was in it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never opened it?”
“She told me to open it only if Mercer House ever started ‘closing its doors again.’”
Daniel exchanged a look with Adrian.
“Where is the envelope?”
“In my apartment.”
Adrian immediately told Daniel to send a driver.
Emma shook her head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because no one knows where I keep it except me.”
She stood.
“I will go.”
Adrian refused to let her go alone.
Less than an hour later, they reached Emma’s small apartment across town.
The front door was closed but unlocked.
Inside, nothing obvious had been taken.
Then Emma entered her bedroom and stopped.
The wooden box beneath her bed was open.
The sealed envelope was gone.
On the pillow lay a single white card.
Daniel picked it up by the edge.
May you like
There were five typed words on it.
STOP ASKING ABOUT THE HOUSE.
