Chapter 7 - TWENTY MINUTES OF AIR
Charles struck the emergency release.
Nothing happened.
Nora searched the walls beneath the red light.
The countdown displayed nineteen minutes and twelve seconds.
“Why would a vault remove oxygen?” she asked.
“To protect documents from fire.”
“And people?”
“It is supposed to detect body heat.”
“Apparently it doesn’t.”
Charles pulled a metal box from the lowest shelf.
Inside was an emergency breathing mask connected to a small oxygen canister.
There was only one.
He handed it to Nora.
“No.”
“Take it.”
“We are both getting out.”
“Nora.”
“I said no.”
She placed the mask on the floor.
Charles examined the hinges.
The vault door was designed to resist explosives.
No one inside could force it open.
Nora pounded on the steel.
“Help!”
The study beyond remained silent.
Charles removed his jacket.
He wrapped it around his fist and struck the red emergency light.
The cover shattered.
Wires hung from the opening.
“What are you doing?” Nora asked.
“Creating a fault.”
He pulled two wires free and pressed them together.
Sparks flew.
The countdown flickered.
Then it accelerated.
Eighteen minutes became fourteen.
Nora stared at him.
“That made it worse.”
“I can see that.”
For the first time in her life, she heard Charles Whitmore admit failure without attempting to disguise it.
She almost laughed.
The air already felt warmer.
Nora searched the shelves.
The vault contained decades of Whitmore family history.
Property records.
Share certificates.
Her mother’s jewelry.
A box labeled NORA - PRIVATE.
She pulled it down.
Inside were birthday cards she had made for Charles as a child.
A paper crown.
A photograph of Nora sleeping against his shoulder during a flight to London.
He had kept everything.
“You saved these.”
Charles looked at the box.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they were yours.”
Nora swallowed.
The timer reached twelve minutes.
Outside the vault, Lucy was somewhere in the enormous house with a security team that might include a traitor.
“Grant knows Lucy’s room,” Nora said.
Charles’s face hardened.
“He knows every room.”
“We need to warn her.”
He pulled the emergency mask toward her again.
“Put this on.”
“No.”
“Your daughter needs you.”
“She needs both of us.”
“She met me yesterday.”
“She called you Grandpa.”
Charles closed his eyes briefly.
The timer reached ten minutes.
A faint hissing began overhead.
Nora felt pressure in her ears.
Charles moved to the back wall.
“There may be an old document chute.”
“A what?”
“The vault was built in 1954.”
He removed two archival boxes.
Behind them was a narrow brass panel.
Charles pulled it open.
A shaft extended upward.
It was barely wide enough for an arm.
“Can you reach anything?” Nora asked.
Charles inserted his hand.
“Nothing.”
Nora removed the heel from one of her shoes.
She used the metal pin to strike the inside of the shaft.
The sound was weak.
She struck again.
Three times.
Then paused.
From far above came a faint answering tap.
Nora’s heart leaped.
“Someone heard us.”
She struck three more times.
The answer came again.
Charles shouted into the opening.
“Call security!”
A small voice replied.
“Grandpa?”
Nora dropped the shoe.
“Lucy?”
“Mommy?”
Lucy’s voice traveled down the shaft.
Nora pressed her face near the opening.
“Sweetheart, listen to me.”
“Why are you in the wall?”
“We’re locked in the vault.”
“I can get Grant.”
“No.”
Nora and Charles said it together.
Lucy became silent.
“Do not find Grant,” Nora said.
“Where is the nurse?”
“She went downstairs.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
Nora’s fear sharpened.
“Lock your bedroom door.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Someone took the handle.”
Charles’s face went cold.
The timer reached seven minutes.
“Lucy, hide,” he said.
“Where?”
“The wardrobe in your room.”
“It’s dark.”
“I know.”
“Will you come?”
“We are coming.”
Nora heard footsteps above Lucy.
Her daughter stopped speaking.
“Lucy?”
No answer.
“Lucy.”
A man’s voice came faintly through the shaft.
“Who are you talking to?”
Grant.
Nora covered the opening with her hand.
Charles looked around the vault.
“We need to get out now.”
Grant’s voice sounded again.
“Come away from the wall, Lucy.”
“I want Mommy.”
“Your mother is resting.”
“You locked her up.”
Silence followed.
Then Lucy screamed.
Nora tore at the brass panel.
“Lucy!”
The timer reached five minutes.
Charles seized a heavy steel document box.
Together, they slammed it against the back wall.
The old plaster cracked.
They struck again.
Dust filled the vault.
A section broke away, revealing brick.
“Keep going,” Nora said.
The oxygen level dropped.
Her vision began to blur.
Charles lifted the box again.
They hit the wall.
One brick shifted.
A narrow current of air touched Nora’s face.
The timer showed three minutes.
They continued.
Charles’s movements slowed.
Nora pushed past him.
She tore at the loose brick with her fingers.
Her nails split.
Blood marked the mortar.
The opening widened enough for air.
Not enough to escape.
Charles lowered himself against the shelf.
Nora placed the oxygen mask over his face.
He tried to remove it.
She held it in place.
“You are stronger,” she said.
“You can break the wall.”
Charles breathed once from the mask.
Then pushed it against her mouth.
“Lucy needs her mother.”
“She needs the man who knows this house.”
The timer reached one minute.
A deep mechanical sound filled the vault.
The final oxygen vent began to close.
Then a crash came from the study.
Someone shouted.
The vault door shook.
The lock disengaged.
Fresh air rushed inside.
Rachel Keene stood outside with two estate guards and a fireplace axe.
Nora collapsed into the study.
“Lucy,” she gasped.
Rachel pointed toward the hallway.
“Ortiz is upstairs.”
Nora ran.
Pain tore through her injured hip, but she did not slow down.
She reached Lucy’s bedroom.
The door stood open.
The handle had been removed from the inside.
The nurse lay unconscious in the hallway.
Detective Ortiz crouched beside her.
The wardrobe was empty.
The window had been opened.
A rope hung from the balcony to the lawn.
Tire tracks crossed the garden.
Grant Vale was gone.
So was Lucy.
Nora’s scream echoed through Whitmore House.
Security vehicles left the estate in every direction.
Police closed roads.
Helicopters searched the river.
Rachel traced Grant’s phone.
It had been abandoned near the highway.
Charles stood in the security control room with blood on his hands from the vault wall.
He reviewed footage.
For nine minutes, every camera on the east side of the estate had gone dark.
When the feed returned, a black SUV was leaving through a maintenance gate.
The gate had opened using Charles’s executive code.
Ortiz obtained traffic-camera footage.
The SUV entered the highway.
Then disappeared beneath an overpass.
Nora stood behind her.
“Daniel took her.”
“We do not know that.”
“Grant worked for him.”
“Possibly.”
“Stop saying possibly.”
Ortiz turned.
“Certainty without evidence will not bring Lucy home.”
Nora wanted to strike her.
Instead, she looked at the frozen image of the SUV.
A white sticker marked the rear window.
It resembled a bird.
Nora moved closer.
“Zoom in.”
The technician enlarged it.
The image blurred.
Still, Nora recognized the logo.
It belonged to Arden House, Celeste’s charitable foundation.
Ortiz called for a search of every Arden property.
At three in the morning, Charles’s phone rang.
The caller used a blocked number.
He answered on speaker.
Daniel’s voice filled the security room.
“Put Nora on.”
Nora grabbed the phone.
“Where is Lucy?”
“She is safe.”
“Let me hear her.”
“Not yet.”
“If you hurt her—”
“This is not about hurting anyone.”
“You poisoned me.”
“You cannot prove that.”
“You kidnapped our daughter.”
“Grant rescued her from a dangerous house.”
Nora looked at Ortiz.
The detective signaled for the call to continue.
“What do you want?” Nora asked.
Daniel exhaled slowly.
“You know what I want.”
“The trust.”
“I want what should have belonged to me after six years of carrying your family name.”
“You are not a Whitmore.”
“I built more value for that company than Charles ever gave me credit for.”
“You married me for shares.”
“I married you because you were useful.”
The words should have broken something in Nora.
Instead, they clarified everything.
“What do I sign?”
Charles shook his head.
Nora ignored him.
Daniel’s voice softened.
“The parental relinquishment.”
“And then?”
“You disappear.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere comfortable.”
“You mean a psychiatric hospital.”
“That depends on how cooperative you are.”
Nora gripped the phone.
“Let me speak to Lucy.”
A rustling sound followed.
Then Lucy’s frightened voice came through.
“Mommy?”
“I’m here.”
“Grandpa’s friend took me.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Can you see anything?”
Daniel returned to the line.
“That is enough.”
“Wait.”
The call ended.
Nora closed her eyes.
She replayed Lucy’s words.
Grandpa’s friend.
Not Daddy.
Not Celeste.
Grant had taken her somewhere Daniel did not want identified.
The phone rang again.
This time, a text message appeared.
A photograph showed Lucy sitting on a narrow bed.
She held her old stuffed rabbit.
Behind her was a white wall.
A clock displayed 3:17.
Beneath the photograph were two sentences.
May you like
SIGN BEFORE HER BIRTHDAY.
OR SHE LEARNS WHAT HAPPENED TO REBECCA’S BABY.
