Chapter 3: The Blue Box
The elevator doors closed on the wedding guests, the orchestra, and the life I thought I was about to begin.
Inside the elevator, nobody spoke.
Zoe stood between me and Daniel, still wearing her little white dress, her bouquet dangling from one hand.
Victoria had refused to come upstairs.
Or maybe she hadn't refused.
Maybe she knew exactly what we were about to find.
I stared at Daniel's phone again.
*Don't open the blue box unless you're ready to learn why Victoria wanted Zoe gone.*
The message was from an unknown number.
I looked at Daniel.
“Can you trace it?””
“Not from this.””
“Call the number.””
“I already did.””
“And?””
“One ring. Then voicemail.””
“What did the voicemail say?””
Daniel hesitated.
“There wasn't one.””
The elevator chimed.
We stepped into the private bridal-suite hallway.
My polished dress shoes suddenly felt absurd against the thick cream carpet.
Ten minutes ago, I'd been a groom.
Now I was walking toward a locked box that might contain the reason my daughter had been pushed out of my wedding.
Zoe tugged my sleeve.
“Daddy?””
I looked down.
“What is it?””
“Are you still getting married?””
The question broke something in me.
I crouched.
“I don't know.””
She frowned.
“Does that mean we're going home?””
I brushed a loose curl away from her face.
“We're going to find out the truth first.””
“Is the truth bad?””
I looked at her.
“I don't know yet.””
She considered that.
Then nodded.
“Okay.””
Daniel watched us silently.
We reached the suite.
The door was partly open.
That stopped me.
“I locked this.””
Daniel glanced at me.
“When?””
“Twenty minutes ago.””
He pushed it wider.
The room smelled of roses and expensive perfume.
White silk robes hung over a chair. Makeup brushes covered the vanity. A half-empty glass of champagne sat beside an open jewelry box.
Nothing looked disturbed.
Except the closet.
One door was open three inches.
I remembered Victoria's voice from months ago.
The blue box is just old family stuff.
I walked toward it.
Daniel stayed behind me.
Zoe waited near the sofa.
I opened the closet.
Rows of dresses hung in perfect order.
I pushed them aside.
There.
At the bottom was a narrow black trunk.
No blue box.
My heart started beating faster.
“It's not here,” Daniel said.
I stared at the empty space.
“Victoria moved it.””
“Or someone else did.””
I turned.
Zoe was staring at the vanity.
“Daddy?””
“What?””
She pointed.
“That's blue.””
On the floor beside the vanity was a small piece of blue metal.
I picked it up.
It was a broken corner from a box.
A blue-painted metal corner.
Daniel crouched.
“Someone forced it.””
I looked at the lock.
There were fresh scratches around the mechanism.
“Why would Victoria break into her own box?””
Daniel slowly looked at me.
“Maybe she didn't.””
A sound came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
We both turned.
Victoria appeared in the doorway.
She was still wearing her wedding gown.
Except the veil was gone.
Her face was pale.
“Marcus.””
I stood.
“What happened to the box?””
She didn't answer.
“Where is it?””
“Please don't do this.””
“Where is it?””
She looked at Zoe.
“Send her away.””
My jaw tightened.
“You are still doing this.””
“Marcus, listen to me.””
“No. You listen.””
I stepped closer.
“You lied about my daughter being in a hospital.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“We need to talk about that.””
“You told me she was sick.””
“She was supposed to be protected.””
“From me?””
“No.””
“Then from who?””
She looked at Daniel.
“Leave us.””
Daniel didn't move.
Victoria's voice shook.
“Please.””
Daniel folded his arms.
“I think Marcus should have someone here.””
She glared at him.
“This is between me and my fiancé.””
“Not anymore,” I said.
Victoria flinched.
I had never called her my ex-fiancée before.
But she seemed to hear the word I didn't say.
“Marcus,” she whispered, “I never wanted to hurt Zoe.””
“Then why did you send someone to bring her here?””
“I didn't send anyone to bring her here.””
“My daughter says you did.””
“She misunderstood.””
“She was seven when she heard it.””
“She remembers things incorrectly.””
I stared at her.
“Stop.””
She fell silent.
I reached into my pocket and held up the note.
“Who wrote this?””
“I don't know.””
“The woman had red hair.””
“I don't know her.””
“You knew exactly what was on that note before I opened it.””
“I guessed.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“You didn't guess.””
Victoria's eyes dropped.
And that tiny movement told me there was something else.
I looked around the suite.
“Where is the box?””
She said nothing.
“Victoria.””
Still nothing.
Then a soft voice came from behind me.
“Daddy.””
Zoe was standing beside the vanity.
She held something in her hand.
A photograph.
I took it.
The picture showed Victoria, much younger, standing beside a woman I had never seen before.
And between them was a little boy.
Victoria's hand was resting on his shoulder.
The photograph was creased down the middle.
On the back, someone had written:
*Marcus — before the accident.*
My blood went cold.
I looked at Victoria.
“Who's the boy?””
She closed her eyes.
“Put the picture down.””
“Who is he?””
“Marcus, please.””
“Why does my name say on the back?””
“I don't know.””
Daniel stepped beside me.
“There's another photo.””
He pulled open a drawer.
Inside were dozens of old photographs.
Most showed Victoria as a teenager.
But several showed the same boy.
There was something familiar about his face.
Not because I remembered him.
Because he looked like someone I knew now.
Someone I saw almost every day in the mirror.
I picked up another photograph.
The back said:
*Summer 2004. Marcus and Vicky.*
My hands went numb.
“I was in these pictures.””
Victoria whispered, “Yes.””
“But I don't remember him.””
“You wouldn't.””
“Why?””
She stared at me.
“Because you forgot.””
Silence.
Daniel looked at me.
“What does she mean?””
Victoria's face crumpled.
“You were thirteen.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I looked at the boy again.
There was a small scar above his eyebrow.
I touched my own brow instinctively.
I had the same scar.
“What happened?””
Victoria didn't answer.
“What happened to him?””
She whispered, “He died.””
Zoe's eyes widened.
I couldn't breathe.
“Who died?””
“Your brother.””
The word hit harder than anything she'd said all morning.
“My what?””
“Your older brother.””
I laughed once.
A hollow sound.
“I don't have a brother.””
“You did.””
“My parents had one child.””
Victoria shook her head.
“That's what they told you.””
My stomach twisted.
“Why?””
“Because they thought it was safer.””
“For who?””
She looked toward the photographs.
“For you.””
I picked up the picture again.
The boy's face stared back at me.
His arm was around my shoulders.
I remembered the scar.
I remembered a summer afternoon.
A red bicycle.
A lake.
A boy shouting my name.
Then nothing.
I dropped the photograph.
Daniel caught it.
“You remember something?””
“No.””
But I did.
Not clearly.
Just fragments.
Water.
A scream.
A hand disappearing beneath the surface.
And a woman crying.
I looked at Victoria.
“Were you there?””
She swallowed.
“Yes.””
“What happened?””
“I can't tell you here.””
“You've been telling me for months that we were starting our life together.””
“We are.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“You already had a life before me. You just hid it.””
She reached for my hand.
I stepped away.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I loved you.””
“You loved the version of me that didn't ask questions.””
“That isn't fair.””
“Isn't it?””
Daniel looked toward the doorway.
“Marcus.””
I turned.
The hallway was empty.
But a sound came from the bridal bedroom.
A drawer closing.
Someone was inside.
Daniel moved first.
He crossed the room and threw open the bedroom door.
Nobody was there.
The balcony doors stood open.
Cold air rushed inside.
The curtains whipped against the wall.
Daniel ran onto the balcony.
“Nothing!””
I hurried over.
Far below, the hotel driveway was crowded with guests and cars.
No one stood beneath the balcony.
I turned back.
Something was missing.
The photograph.
The one showing me and the boy.
It wasn't in Daniel's hand anymore.
“Daniel.””
He looked at me.
“What?””
“The picture.””
He checked his hands.
Then the carpet.
“It's gone.””
Victoria covered her mouth.
I looked at her.
“You're lying.””
“I swear I'm not.””
“You are.””
She shook her head desperately.
“Marcus, listen to me. The boy in those pictures isn't the reason I kept Zoe away.””
“Then what is?””
She didn't answer.
“Tell me.””
Her eyes moved toward the closet.
Then toward Zoe.
Finally, she whispered:
“Because the person who caused your brother's death is still alive.””
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“Who?””
Victoria's lips trembled.
Before she could speak, her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her face went white.
I reached for it.
She pulled it away.
“Who is calling?””
“No one.””
The phone rang again.
A message appeared.
Victoria read it.
Then she slowly lowered the phone.
“What did it say?””
She couldn't speak.
I took it from her.
There was one sentence.
*Tell Marcus the truth before Zoe's mother gets here.*
I looked at Victoria.
Then at Daniel.
Then at my daughter.
And finally at the hallway.
Someone was coming.
Fast.
Then the suite door opened.
A woman's voice shouted from outside.
“Marcus!””
Zoe gasped.
“Mommy!””
May you like
I turned toward the doorway.
And the woman standing there was the last person Victoria wanted me to see.
