The Swan’s Final Song

Before Dominic’s hands could reach Isabella, two of Vincent’s bodyguards slammed him to the floor.

The heavy thud shook the room. Ellie screamed and buried her face in my apron, clutching her one-eared rabbit tightly.

“Take him to the basement,” Vincent snarled. His voice was a terrifying, guttural roar I had never heard in all my five years working in the estate. “Do not let him speak. Do not let him bleed out. I want him alive.”

The bodyguards dragged Dominic toward the door. As they pulled him past me, Dominic twisted his head. His eyes met mine.

“You think you’re safe, Anna?” Dominic hissed, blood dripping from his lip. “Check the red shoes.”

Then they hauled him into the hallway.

I stood frozen. My heart hammered against my ribs.

Check the red shoes.

I looked down at Ellie. She was wearing the same worn red shoes she always wore, the ones I had bought at a thrift store months ago. What could Dominic possibly know about them?

Vincent collapsed into a chair, burying his face in his hands. The suitcase of money sat forgotten on the floor.

“Mr. Moretti,” I said softly, keeping my distance. “I should take the girls upstairs. They shouldn’t be here.”

Vincent slowly looked up. He looked ten years older than he had a minute ago. He looked at Isabella, who was clutching the embroidered baby bib to her chest.

“Anna,” Vincent said, his voice breaking. “You noticed it, didn’t you? You knew she was afraid of him.”

“I suspected, sir. I’m just a housekeeper. I didn’t know how to speak against him.”

“You are the only person in this house who never lied to my wife,” Vincent said. He stood up and pulled a heavy ring of brass keys from his pocket. He pressed them into my hand. “Lock yourselves in the master suite. Do not open the door for anyone except me.”

I nodded, grabbing Ellie’s hand and placing a gentle arm around Isabella’s shoulders.

The hallways of the massive Lake Forest estate suddenly felt like a labyrinth. The walls were lined with expensive portraits and dark mahogany panels, but they offered no warmth.

We hurried to the master suite on the third floor. I locked the heavy deadbolt behind us.

The suite smelled faintly of lavender. Sofia’s perfume.

Isabella walked straight to her mother’s massive walk-in closet. She pushed past the rows of designer dresses and stopped in front of a heavy, dark blue wool coat.

It was the coat Sofia had been wearing the week before she died.

Isabella buried her face in the fabric, breathing in the scent of her mother.

I set Ellie down on the large bed. “Stay here, sweetie. Keep Mr. Rabbit safe.”

I walked over to Isabella. I gently placed a hand on her back. “Bella, honey. You are so brave. What you did today… you saved your daddy.”

Isabella looked up at me. Her large brown eyes were filled with tears, but also a haunting clarity.

“Dominic didn’t chase Mommy just to hurt her,” Isabella whispered.

“Why did he chase her?”

“Because Mommy took something from his safe.”

My breath caught. “What did she take, Bella?”

Isabella reached into the deep pocket of the blue wool coat. She pulled out a small, tarnished brass key.

“This,” she said, handing it to me.

It wasn’t a house key. It looked like a key to a safety deposit box or a locker.

But as I took it from her, I noticed a small piece of folded paper wrapped tightly around the top of the key. I carefully unwrapped it.

It was a faded, handwritten note in Sofia’s elegant script.

If something happens to me, find the locker at Union Station. The truth about Anna’s husband is inside.

The room spun.

My husband, Mark, hadn’t died in a random mugging three years ago. The police had closed the case in a week. They said he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Why did Sofia have a note about my dead husband?

Before I could process it, Ellie tugged on my skirt.

“Mommy,” Ellie said, holding up her worn red shoe. “My foot hurts. There’s a rock inside.”

I knelt down, my hands shaking. I took off Ellie’s shoe.

There was no rock.