Chapter 4 - The Drawing in the FireCeleste did not turn immediately.
She looked at the folded paper resting on the logs.
Then she reached into the fireplace and picked it up.
"Something Nora drew."
Daniel approached.
"Why are you putting it in the fire?"
"It's about Friday."
He held out his hand.
"Let me see."
Celeste hesitated.
A tiny hesitation.
But Daniel noticed.
She passed him the paper.
He unfolded it carefully.
The drawing was simple, made with pink, blue, green, and beige crayons.
A little girl stood near a trampoline.
An adult woman held something near the opening.
At the bottom were five words.
SHE OPENED THE DOOR.
Daniel read them twice.
"What does this mean?"
Celeste exhaled.
"Nora's been imagining things."
"Imagining what?"
"She thinks I opened the trampoline."
Daniel looked up sharply.
"Did you?"
Celeste stared at him.
The question was so direct that she seemed momentarily offended.
"Of course not."
"Then why would she draw this?"
"Because she saw me near it. I walked over to check on her before Hannah lost control."
Daniel studied the picture.
The stick figure's arm was extended toward the net.
"She wrote that you opened the door."
"Daniel, she's seven."
"Seven-year-olds can tell the truth."
"And seven-year-olds can misunderstand what they see."
He did not answer.
Celeste stepped closer.
"Do you understand what you're implying? That I deliberately endangered the little girl I've helped raise?"
"I asked a question."
"You asked whether I would hurt Nora."
Daniel felt guilt rise immediately.
He knew Celeste had spent long hours managing Nora's routine, school arrangements, clothing, and appointments while he worked.
He remembered how lonely the house had felt after Emma's death.
How grateful he had been when Celeste brought structure back into their lives.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Celeste's eyes softened.
But she did not reach for him.
"Please don't make this harder for her."
Daniel folded the drawing.
"I'm keeping it."
Celeste nodded.
"Of course."
He placed it in his desk drawer.
When he turned back, Celeste was already leaving.
Across town, Hannah was reviewing the list of children she had coached that spring.
Fourteen regular students.
Three private gymnastics classes.
Two school programs.
Losing the Vale contract would hurt financially, but she could survive it.
Losing her reputation was different.
At four o'clock, she received a message from the director of the private athletic club where she taught twice each week.
Hannah, we need to discuss a serious complaint before your next session.
She called immediately.
The director sounded uncomfortable.
"A parent has reported that you handled a child dangerously."
"Which parent?"
"I can't disclose that yet."
"Is this about Nora Vale?"
Silence.
Then: "We'll need to suspend your sessions while we review it."
Hannah closed her eyes.
"Have you seen any evidence?"
"We've received a written statement."
"From whom?"
"Hannah, you know I can't discuss confidential details."
"Then please put the suspension and the complaint in writing."
She ended the call.
Her stomach twisted.
Celeste was not content with removing her from the mansion.
Someone was trying to remove her from every place she worked.
Hannah forwarded the club's message to Ellis.
His reply came quickly.
Do not contact the Vales. We will respond formally.
A moment later, another message arrived.
And Hannah—tell me whether Nora ever seemed afraid of Celeste.
Hannah stared at the screen.
She remembered Nora's quietness whenever Celeste entered the room.
The way the child sometimes asked permission to drink water.
The way she apologized after falling during practice.
Hannah typed:
Yes. But I thought she was just shy.
On Monday morning, Daniel called Marianne Sloane.
Marianne was a fifty-eight-year-old trusts-and-estates attorney who had advised Emma's family for nearly twenty years.
She was one of the few people Daniel trusted to tell him when he was wrong.
"Marianne, I need to ask about Nora's trust."
"All right."
"Who can authorize a sale of the northern woodland?"
There was a pause.
"Why?"
"Celeste says an environmental group is interested in purchasing it."
"Bellweather Conservation?"
Daniel blinked.
"You know them?"
"They contacted my office last month."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did. Your assistant confirmed receipt of my written concerns."
Daniel sat straighter.
"What concerns?"
"Daniel, the trust owns sixty-two acres. The preliminary valuation supplied to me was eight-point-four million dollars. That figure is substantially below comparable development offers for nearby land."
"How far below?"
"I don't know yet. That's why I recommended a second independent appraisal."
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
Celeste had told him Bellweather was a preservation organization.
She had said selling the land would protect Nora's financial future and prevent aggressive development around the estate.
"Is the trust allowed to sell?"
"Under its terms, yes, if the transaction is prudent and solely in Nora's interests. But you're the trustee. You have a fiduciary responsibility to investigate the price and any conflicts before proceeding."
Daniel felt heat creep up his neck.
"Why was your email sent to my assistant?"
"That's how your office handles trust correspondence."
Daniel remembered that Celeste had recently assumed responsibility for organizing his personal and family-office communications.
He changed the subject.
"Marianne, did Emma ever tell you why she put that land into Nora's trust?"
"She told me more than once."
"What did she say?"
Marianne's voice softened.
"She said Nora should have something nobody could take from her simply because they were stronger, older, or more persuasive."
Daniel looked at the family photograph on his desk.
Emma stood beside a younger Daniel, holding baby Nora.
He had forgotten how direct Emma could be.
"Can you send me all correspondence about Bellweather?" he asked.
"Certainly. And Daniel?"
"Yes?"
"Don't sign anything until we've reviewed it together."
That evening, Celeste found Daniel reading the trust documents.
She placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Busy day?"
He did not look up.
"Why does Bellweather want the northern woods?"
"Because they're conservation buyers."
"Who owns Bellweather?"
"I don't know. It's an investment group."
"Marianne thinks the price is low."
Celeste went still.
"Marianne has always been difficult about Emma's property."
"She's Nora's attorney too."
"She's a lawyer who charges by the hour to complicate things."
Daniel closed the folder.
"Why was I never shown the correspondence?"
Celeste gave a small laugh.
"You were shown everything. You never read half the emails I forwarded."
It was plausible.
Painfully plausible.
Daniel had delegated too much.
He knew it.
But before he could respond, his phone rang.
A message from an unfamiliar number appeared.
It contained a photograph of Hannah leaving the athletic club.
Below it were six words:
She won't stop until you lose Nora.
Daniel stared at the message.
May you like
Someone was watching Hannah.
And someone wanted him frightened enough to believe she was the enemy.
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