Chapter 1 - The Twenty-Third Step
"Don't open it!" Vanessa Shaw screamed.
Her voice cracked across the marble foyer just as Vincent Moretti reached for the lock on the enormous black suitcase.
Behind him, Clara Bell stood halfway down the staircase, one hand wrapped around the rail and the other pressed beneath her seven-month belly. Her face had gone gray. The suitcase had dragged against every one of the twenty-three steps, and the last pull had left her shaking so hard she could barely stay upright.
"You told her to move this?" Vincent asked.
Vanessa smoothed the front of her cream silk dress. "It needed to go downstairs. Clara offered to help."
Clara looked at the floor. She had not offered. Vanessa had told her that if she wanted to keep her room and the money Daniel had left for the baby, she would do what she was asked.
Vincent noticed the red mark across Clara's palm. He also noticed that the suitcase was old, scuffed, and far too heavy for clothes.
"Go sit down," he told Clara.
"I'm fine, sir."
"That wasn't a question."
A guard came forward to help her. Clara took one step, then caught the rail as a sharp pain crossed her back.
Vincent turned to Vanessa. "What's in the case?"
"Old things. Nothing that concerns you."
He looked at the lock. It was new, bright brass against the scratched black leather. Vanessa moved between him and the suitcase.
"Vincent, please. We have guests coming. Don't make this ugly."
He reached past her and snapped the lock.
The lid opened a few inches. A white wedding veil lay on top of a folded dress. Beneath it sat a platinum ring Vincent had not seen in four years.
His first wife's ring.
He stopped breathing.
Vanessa whispered, "You don't understand."
May you like
Vincent had not said Elena's name aloud in months. He had built a life around the idea that she had chosen to leave, because anger was easier to carry than the thought that he had failed to protect her. The veil made that story impossible to keep believing.
Then a phone began to vibrate inside the hidden lining.
