Chapter 3 - THE PAINTED BIRD
Natalie found Lucas an hour later, curled into a tight ball inside the cavernous walk-in closet of his bedroom. He was wedged behind a row of Daniel’s heavy winter coats, a tiny shadow in the dark.
She didn't coax him out. She didn't offer empty promises. Instead, she simply sat on the floor just outside the closet door, leaning her aching back against the wall, and waited.
For twenty minutes, the only sound was the heavy ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
“I have something that belongs to you,” Natalie finally whispered into the quiet room.
She placed the dented silver watch on the hardwood floor and slid it gently across the polished surface until it bumped against the toe of Lucas’s small sneaker.
A moment later, a tiny hand reached out from the darkness and snatched the watch back.
“She didn't leave it,” Lucas’s voice was barely a croak, raspy from crying.
“She didn't?” Natalie asked, keeping her tone soft, completely devoid of judgment.
“It broke when they made her go.”
Natalie’s breath caught in her throat. She shifted closer, peering into the shadows of the closet. “Who made her go, Lucas?”
The boy retreated further into the coats. “The monster.”
Before Natalie could ask anything else, the bedroom door clicked open. Evelyn stood in the threshold, holding a silver tray with a glass of milk and a plate of sandwiches. She took in the scene—Natalie sitting on the floor, Lucas hiding—and her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.
“Miss Natalie, I believe your shift ended twenty minutes ago,” Evelyn said, her voice dripping with polite poison. “You should tend to your injuries. I will handle the boy’s supper.”
“He’s not ready to eat,” Natalie said, staying firmly seated.
“He will eat when he is told to,” Evelyn countered, stepping into the room.
From inside the closet, Lucas let out a soft, terrified whimper. The sound was so small, so utterly broken, that it ignited a fierce, protective fire in Natalie’s chest. She stood up, intentionally blocking Evelyn’s path to the closet.
“I said, he’s not ready,” Natalie repeated.
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. For a fleeting second, the polished veneer slipped, revealing a glimpse of something ruthlessly sharp beneath. “You don't understand the rules of this house, girl. Mr. Brooks is a powerful man. Powerful men cannot afford weak heirs. Coddling him only delays the inevitable.”
“He’s five years old,” Natalie fired back. “He needs a father, not a warden.”
“He needs discipline,” Evelyn snapped, setting the tray down on the dresser with a harsh clang. She stepped impossibly close to Natalie, lowering her voice so Lucas couldn't hear. “Maria thought she could change things, too. She thought love was enough to tame this world. It wasn't.”
Evelyn turned and swept out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
Natalie stood trembling slightly, her side throbbing. She turned back to the closet. Lucas was slowly creeping out from behind the coats. His small hands were clutching something new.
It wasn't the watch this time. He held it out to her.
It was a small, clumsily carved wooden bird, painted in bright, cheerful yellow. It looked completely out of place in the dark, masculine opulence of the Brooks estate.
“Maria made it,” Lucas whispered. “She said it was for when I was brave.”
Natalie took the wooden bird. As her fingers brushed the painted wood, she felt something odd. The bottom of the bird wasn't smooth. It was hollowed out.
She turned it over. Tucked inside a small carved crevice in the base of the bird was a tightly folded piece of paper.
May you like
Natalie glanced at the open doorway, her heart hammering against her bruised ribs. She carefully extracted the paper and unfolded it. It wasn't a drawing. It was a hastily scribbled note, written on the back of a grocery receipt.
If anything happens to me, check the ledger in the study. She’s stealing from him.
