PART 2 — THE THING HIDDEN INSIDE THE WALLS OF THE MORETTI MANSION
PART 2 — THE THING HIDDEN INSIDE THE WALLS OF THE MORETTI MANSION
The moment Mrs. Harper dropped the towels, I knew.
It wasn’t the sound that bothered her.
It was the question.
Because I had not asked about the children.
I had asked about the house.
And somehow…
That frightened her more.
Vincent noticed it too.
“Harper.”
The house manager immediately looked away.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“You know something about the ventilation system?”
Her lips parted.
Then closed.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Finally, she whispered:
“I think you should ask Mr. Moretti’s security team.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“Why?”
Harper looked toward Lucas and Leo’s bedroom doors.
“Because I was told never to touch anything connected to that hallway.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
That night, I barely slept.
Something about the mansion felt wrong.
Not dangerous.
Not obviously.
Just controlled.
Too controlled.
The kind of place where every detail was managed.
Every room cleaned perfectly.
Every schedule followed precisely.
But children are not machines.
They leave clues.
And Lucas and Leo had been leaving them for eighteen months.
The next morning, I started watching.
Not investigating.
Watching.
The way I had learned during eight years caring for children who couldn’t always explain what was wrong.
At breakfast, Lucas pushed away his juice.
“I don’t like this one.”
I looked at the glass.
“What’s wrong with it?”
He shrugged.
“It tastes weird.”
Leo nodded.
“Everything tastes weird lately.”
I looked at Vincent.
“Has that been happening often?”
He frowned.
“No.”
Then he paused.
“Actually…”
“What?”
“The boys stopped eating certain foods last year.”
“After their symptoms started?”
“Yes.”
I wrote that down.
Then I asked:
“What changed last year?”
Vincent went quiet.
“Nothing.”
But his face said something else.
After breakfast, I checked the boys’ rooms.
Not their toys.
Not their clothes.
The things adults ignore.
The air vents.
The humidifiers.
The cleaning products.
The laundry.
Everything.
Near the hallway vent, I found a tiny scratch mark on the metal cover.
Someone had removed it recently.
I crouched closer.
Behind the grate was a small black device.
Not part of the ventilation system.
A sensor.
My stomach tightened.
I stood up immediately.
Because suddenly this was no longer about a strange smell.
Someone had added something to the house.
I went straight to Vincent.
He was in the middle of a video conference when I entered.
He looked annoyed.
Until he saw my expression.
“What happened?”
I placed the device on his desk.
His face changed.
“What is that?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
He picked it up carefully.
“Where did you find this?”
“Outside your sons’ bedrooms.”
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he stood.
“Everyone out.”
The people in the room immediately left.
Once the door closed, Vincent looked at me.
“Claire.”
His voice was different now.
Not the billionaire.
Not the powerful businessman.
A father.
“Tell me exactly what you found.”
I explained everything.
The smell.
The vent.
The device.
The changes in the boys.
When I finished, Vincent sat down slowly.
“My security team checks every room.”
“Then someone is very good at hiding things.”
He looked at the device.
“Or someone who works here has access.”
That afternoon, Vincent called his head of security.
The inspection took hours.
And what they found made everyone silent.
There were modifications to the ventilation system.
Not throughout the entire house.
Only one section.
The children’s wing.
The equipment had been installed professionally.
Hidden.
Careful.
Designed to avoid detection.
Vincent looked furious.
“Who authorized this?”
Nobody answered.
Then the security chief looked uncomfortable.
“Sir…”
“What?”
“There is something else.”
He handed Vincent a report.
Vincent read it.
Then his expression completely changed.
“What?”
I stepped closer.
“What is it?”
He handed me the paper.
It was a maintenance log.
A signature appeared at the bottom.
Dr. Harrison Blake.
My heart sank.
“The doctor?”
Vincent shook his head.
“No.”
His voice was barely audible.
“Dr. Blake was supposed to be the one helping my sons.”
He stared at the signature.
“But he was also the person who recommended installing a new air purification system eighteen months ago.”
The same time the boys became sick.
The next morning, Dr. Blake arrived at the mansion as usual.
But this time…
Vincent did not greet him like a friend.
He greeted him like a suspect.
“You need to explain something.”
Dr. Blake looked confused.
“What happened?”
Vincent placed the maintenance report on the table.
The doctor’s face changed instantly.
Only for a second.
But it was enough.
I saw it.
Vincent saw it.
“You know about this.”
Dr. Blake recovered quickly.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then why is your signature on the installation paperwork?”
Silence.
Then the doctor smiled.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“You made one.”
That was when the front door opened.
Everyone turned.
A woman stood there.
Older.
Elegant.
Holding a small folder.
Vincent froze.
Because he recognized her.
“Isabella?”
His voice barely worked.
The woman’s eyes filled with tears.
“I know you think I’m dead.”
Nobody moved.
The room became completely silent.
I looked at Vincent.
The woman.
The medical records.
The sick children.
Nothing made sense.
Vincent whispered:
“No…”
“You died four years ago.”
The woman shook her head.
“No.”
“I disappeared because I found out what Harrison was doing.”
My breath caught.
Dr. Blake stepped backward.
And for the first time…
He looked afraid.
Isabella opened the folder.
Inside were photographs.
Documents.
Evidence.
She looked directly at Vincent.
“Your sons were never sick because of a disease.”
“They were sick because someone wanted them weak.”
Vincent’s face went pale.
“Who?”
Isabella looked toward Dr. Blake.
Then whispered:
“The same person who convinced you I was dead.”
The entire mansion went silent.
Because suddenly the mystery wasn’t who was harming Lucas and Leo.
It was how many people had been helping.
And why someone had spent four years keeping Isabella Moretti hidden.
(To be continued…)
