Chapter 2: The Photograph in the Locked Room
At midnight, the police arrived.
By 12:30, Victoria Callaway had hired two lawyers, a crisis-management consultant, and a private security team.
By 1:00 a.m., someone had ordered the hotel's security department to delete the rooftop footage.
Unfortunately for them, Daniel Reed had already copied it onto an encrypted drive.
"You're going to get yourself fired," I told him.
Daniel leaned against the wall outside the medical suite.
"Probably.""
"Then why are you helping me?""
He looked at the bloodstains on my shirt.
"Because I watched you risk your life for a woman everyone else was too afraid to touch.""
He lowered his voice.
"And because I've worked for this family for twelve years. I've seen what happens when people ask the wrong questions.""
Before I could respond, the medical suite door opened.
A nurse stepped outside.
"Mr. Brooks? Mrs. Callaway wants to see you.""
I entered.
Eleanor was sitting in a hospital bed, wrapped in a pale blue blanket. A doctor had placed a bandage around her wrist.
Despite everything, she still looked remarkably composed.
But her eyes were different.
They were the eyes of someone who had spent years carrying a terrible burden.
"Close the door, Nathaniel.""
I did.
She motioned toward the chair.
"Sit down.""
I remained standing.
"I want answers.""
"Of course you do.""
"How did you know my mother?""
Eleanor closed her eyes.
"Grace was my daughter.""
The room seemed to tilt.
I stared at her.
"What?""
"Your mother was my daughter.""
"No.""
The word came out automatically.
My mother had never mentioned the Callaways. Not once. She'd raised me in a small rented house outside Philadelphia. She worked double shifts at a nursing home and counted every dollar before buying groceries.
There had been no luxury cars.
No private schools.
No billionaire relatives.
"My mother was Grace Brooks," I said.
"She wasn't a Callaway.""
Eleanor reached toward me.
"She was born Grace Callaway.""
I stepped backward.
"You're telling me my mother was a billionaire's daughter?""
"Yes.""
"And she never told me?""
Eleanor looked down.
"She was protecting you.""
I laughed bitterly.
"From what? A bank account? A family reunion?""
"From Victoria.""
I thought about the security footage.
"Why would Victoria want my mother dead?""
Eleanor's lips trembled.
"Because Grace knew what happened to her father.""
I frowned.
"Your husband?""
Eleanor nodded.
"Arthur Callaway died twenty-seven years ago. Everyone was told he suffered a heart attack during a business trip.""
"Was that not true?""
"No.""
She looked directly at me.
"Arthur was murdered.""
Silence filled the room.
"And Victoria was involved?""
"She was only a child then. But her father, Richard, was already preparing to take control of the company. Grace discovered documents proving that Richard had been stealing from the family business for years.""
"Richard is Victoria's father?""
"My son.""
Eleanor's voice cracked.
"Grace confronted him. Two days later, she disappeared.""
I sat down slowly.
"Disappeared?""
"She was twenty-two. Pregnant. Frightened.
She came to me one night and told me she was leaving. She said she couldn't trust anyone in the family.""
I swallowed.
"Was I the baby?""
Eleanor nodded.
"I begged her to stay. I offered her money, protection, anything. But she refused.""
"Why?""
"Because Richard had threatened to take her child away.""
I stared at the floor.
My mother's face appeared in my mind.
Her tired smile.
Her hands smelling of laundry detergent and lavender soap.
The way she used to check the locks twice before bed.
I had always assumed she was simply cautious.
Now I wondered how many nights she'd spent afraid someone would find us.
"Why didn't you find her?"" I asked.
"I tried.""
Eleanor wiped her eyes.
"Richard told me she had gone overseas. Then he showed me a letter supposedly written by Grace, saying she wanted no further contact with me.""
"Did you believe him?""
"No. But I couldn't prove anything.""
"Then why didn't you keep looking?""
Eleanor lowered her head.
"Because I was a coward.""
The honesty in her voice hurt more than an excuse would have.
She reached for the bedside table and opened a small drawer.
Inside was a silver key.
"There's something I need you to see.""
She placed it in my palm.
"An old study on the 79th floor. It belonged to your grandfather. There's a locked cabinet behind the bookcase.""
"What am I looking for?""
"A photograph.""
"Of my mother?""
"Of your mother and me. Taken the night before she disappeared.""
I stood.
"Why is it important?""
Eleanor's eyes moved toward the door.
"Because someone altered it.""
Before I could ask what she meant, the door opened.
Victoria entered without knocking.
She had changed into a black suit. Her makeup was perfect again. A diamond watch glittered on her wrist.
"Grandmother, the police want a statement.""
Eleanor's expression hardened.
"Then they can wait.""
Victoria looked at me.
"Why is he still here?""
I held the silver key tightly.
"Because your grandmother asked me to stay.""
Victoria gave a humorless laugh.
"You're a hotel employee. You don't belong in family matters.""
"Funny. Your grandmother seems to think otherwise.""
She stepped closer.
"Listen, Nathaniel. Whatever story she's told you, don't believe it.""
Eleanor gripped the blanket.
"Get out, Victoria.""
Victoria ignored her.
"Your mother abandoned this family. She chose to live in poverty. Don't let my grandmother's guilt convince you that you were cheated out of some inheritance.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"How do you know my mother lived in poverty?""
For the first time, Victoria looked uncomfortable.
Then she smiled.
"Because I know exactly who Grace Brooks was.""
I moved closer.
"Then tell me why you said she should have died twenty-seven years ago.""
Her expression froze.
Eleanor sat upright.
"You heard the recording?""
"Every word.""
Victoria's eyes flickered toward the security camera in the corner.
Then she turned back to me.
"Your mother stole something from this family.""
"What?""
Victoria leaned closer.
"The original ownership records of Callaway Holdings.""
I looked at Eleanor.
She shook her head.
"She's lying.""
Victoria straightened her jacket.
"Ask your grandmother what happened to the night Arthur died. Ask her why Grace was the last person to see him alive.""
Then she walked out.
The door clicked shut.
I turned toward Eleanor.
"Was my mother involved in my grandfather's death?""
Eleanor began crying.
"No, Nathaniel. She was trying to save him.""
"From whom?""
Eleanor opened her mouth.
But before she could answer, Daniel appeared at the door.
"Mr. Brooks, we found something in the footage.""
He looked pale.
"The camera in the private elevator recorded Victoria entering the 79th floor ten minutes before your grandmother fell.""
"Why does that matter?""
Daniel swallowed.
"Because the elevator records show she wasn't alone.""
He turned the tablet toward me.
A second figure stood beside Victoria.
An elderly man with a silver walking cane.
I recognized him immediately.
Richard Callaway.
Victoria's father.
Eleanor stared at the screen.
May you like
Then she whispered:
"He's supposed to be dead.""
