PART 2 — THE ROOM THAT WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO EXIST
Adrian Blackwood did not raise his voice.
That frightened Evelyn more than if he had shouted.
He stood at the far end of the hallway in a black dinner jacket, one hand still resting on the silver knob of the ballroom door behind him.
Music continued downstairs.
A violinist played.
Guests laughed.
Champagne glasses clinked beneath chandeliers.
But on the third floor of Blackwood Manor, the world had gone completely still.
Adrian looked at the broken wooden panel.
Then at his six-year-old son clinging to Maria.
Then at Evelyn.
“Say that again.”
Evelyn swallowed.
“Adrian—”
“You told her to put my son back.”
“No.”
Maria stared at her.
“You absolutely did.”
Evelyn’s head snapped toward her.
“You stay out of this.”
Adrian took one step forward.
“She will speak whenever I ask her to.”
Something in his tone made Evelyn retreat.
Noah tightened his arms around Maria’s neck.
Adrian saw it.
His face changed.
“Buddy.”
Noah would not look at him.
Adrian’s voice softened.
“It’s Dad.”
The boy began shaking harder.
Maria whispered, “He’s terrified.”
“I can see that.”
Adrian slowly removed his jacket.
He laid it on a chair.
Then he crouched several feet away from Noah.
He did not try to touch him.
“Did someone put you inside that wall?”
Noah buried his face against Maria’s shoulder.
Adrian waited.
Evelyn spoke quickly.
“He was hiding.”
Maria turned on her.
“A six-year-old sealed himself behind a wooden panel?”
“There’s a service passage.”
“Then why was the latch on the outside?”
That stopped everyone.
Adrian looked at the broken panel.
“What latch?”
Maria pointed.
Half of it remained attached to the inside edge.
Old brass.
Recently polished.
Adrian rose.
His expression was no longer confused.
It was dangerous.
“Evelyn.”
She lifted her chin.
“You don’t know what happened.”
“Then tell me.”
“Noah has been having behavioral problems.”
The little boy whimpered.
Maria felt rage flash through her.
“Behavioral problems?”
“He wanders.”
“He was crying for help.”
“He throws tantrums.”
“He was locked in a wall!”
Evelyn’s composure cracked.
“I was teaching him a lesson!”
Silence.
Even she seemed surprised by her own words.
Adrian stared.
“A lesson.”
Evelyn’s breathing quickened.
“He was spying on me.”
Noah whispered into Maria’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t.”
Maria stroked his back.
“I know.”
Evelyn pointed at him.
“He keeps sneaking into rooms.
Listening at doors.
Taking things.”
Adrian looked at his son.
“What things?”
Noah lifted his face.
Tears streaked his cheeks.
“I found Mommy’s key.”
Everything changed.
Adrian went completely still.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
Maria looked between them.
“What key?”
Noah’s tiny fingers opened.
Something lay in his palm.
A small brass key attached to a faded red ribbon.
Adrian stared as though he had seen a ghost.
“Where did you get that?”
“In Mommy’s room.”
Evelyn whispered, “There is no Mommy’s room.”
Noah looked at her.
“Yes, there is.”
Maria felt a chill crawl over her arms.
Adrian stood slowly.
His wife, Claire Blackwood, had died four years earlier.
Everyone employed at the estate knew the story.
Car accident.
Rain.
A mountain road.
No survivors.
Adrian had been left alone with his two-year-old son.
Since Claire’s death, the western wing of Blackwood Manor had remained closed.
At least, that was what Maria had been told.
Adrian held out his hand.
“Noah, give me the key.”
The boy hesitated.
“No.”
Adrian’s face softened.
“Why?”
“Because she said not to.”
Maria frowned.
“Who?”
Noah looked toward the broken passage.
“The lady.”
Evelyn suddenly stepped forward.
“That’s enough.”
Adrian blocked her.
“What lady?”
Noah whispered, “The lady who cries.”
Maria felt the hair rise on the back of her neck.
Adrian stared at the hidden passage.
“There is nobody inside these walls.”
Noah shook his head.
“She talks to me.”
“When?”
“At night.”
Maria looked toward the darkness behind the broken panel.
The passage extended several feet before turning left.
She had assumed it was simply old service space.
Now she wasn’t sure.
Adrian asked, “What does she say?”
Noah’s eyes filled again.
“She says she knows Mommy.”
Evelyn’s glass of champagne slipped from her fingers.
It shattered.
Everyone looked at her.
Adrian’s voice became quiet.
“You knew about this passage.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
“I knew the house had passages.”
“You knew this one.”
“No.”
“Then why did you tell Maria to put him back?”
Evelyn opened her mouth.
Nothing came.
Adrian turned to Maria.
“Take Noah downstairs.”
“No!”
Noah screamed.
The sound startled all of them.
He clung desperately to Maria.
“Don’t take me downstairs!”
Adrian crouched again.
“Why?”
Noah was sobbing now.
“She’s downstairs.”
“Who?”
The boy looked directly at Evelyn.
Maria’s stomach turned.
Noah whispered:
“She said if I told Dad, she’d send me away like Mommy.”
Adrian stood.
The softness left his face.
“Evelyn.”
She backed away.
“You are listening to a frightened child.”
“I’m listening very carefully.”
“He misunderstood.”
“Did you threaten my son?”
“No.”
Noah cried, “You did!”
Adrian looked at him.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Evelyn’s face went pale.
Noah continued.
“You said Daddy would choose you.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“You said he didn’t want a scared baby.”
Maria closed her eyes briefly.
There are sentences children should never know how to say.
Adrian stepped toward Evelyn.
“You will leave my house tonight.”
Her face changed.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You cannot throw me out because of a child’s story.”
“My child.”
“Adrian—”
“Your car will be brought around.”
She laughed.
But it sounded desperate.
“You really think I’m leaving?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
The answer surprised him.
Evelyn’s fear disappeared.
In its place came something colder.
“You don’t understand what house you’re standing in.”
Adrian stared at her.
“This is my house.”
Evelyn smiled.
“No.”
Maria felt something wrong in the way she said it.
Not metaphorically.
Not emotionally.
As though she meant legally.
Literally.
Evelyn picked up her purse.
“You should ask your late wife.”
Adrian’s expression sharpened.
“About what?”
“Why she never told you what was inside these walls.”
Then Evelyn walked away.
Adrian caught her wrist.
“Where are you going?”
She looked down at his hand.
“Take your hand off me.”
“Answer me.”
“Ask Noah.”
Adrian released her.
Evelyn smiled toward the boy.
“Go ahead, sweetheart.”
Noah hid behind Maria.
“Show Daddy what you found.”
Then Evelyn turned and disappeared down the staircase.
Adrian started after her.
Maria stopped him.
“Sir.”
He turned.
“Your son needs you more.”
That landed.
Adrian looked at Noah.
For a moment, Maria saw the battle in his face.
The businessman accustomed to hunting threats wanted to chase Evelyn.
The father stayed.
He knelt.
“Show me.”
Noah opened his fist again.
The key.
Then, from his pajama pocket, he removed a folded piece of paper.
Adrian took it.
The color drained from his face.
Maria leaned closer.
It was a child’s drawing.
No.
Not a child’s.
A floor plan.
Hand-drawn.
Blackwood Manor.
The third floor.
Several walls were marked with red lines.
Hidden corridors.
And in the western wing was a room Maria had never seen.
Beneath it, someone had written:
NOAH’S ROOM.
Adrian whispered, “That’s Claire’s handwriting.”
Maria looked at him.
“You’re certain?”
“I would know it anywhere.”
He turned the paper over.
Three words were written on the back.
IF I DISAPPEAR.
Adrian sat down hard on the hallway bench.
Maria felt the blood leave her face.
“Your wife wrote this?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
Noah tugged Maria’s sleeve.
“The lady has more.”
Adrian looked up.
“What lady?”
“The one behind the wall.”
“Noah—”
“She knows my name.”
Maria crouched.
“Did you see her?”
The boy nodded.
“Once.”
“What does she look like?”
Noah thought.
“Like Mommy.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
Maria could almost hear his heartbeat.
“She looks like your mother?”
“No.”
Noah shook his head.
“Old Mommy.”
Adrian frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Noah pointed toward a portrait hanging opposite them.
It showed Adrian’s late wife, Claire, standing beside an older woman.
Her mother.
Margaret Vale.
Maria remembered the name.
Margaret had supposedly died fifteen years earlier.
Noah pointed at her.
“That lady.”
Adrian stared at the portrait.
“That’s your grandmother.”
Noah nodded.
“She lives in the wall.”
No one spoke.
Then Adrian laughed once.
A terrible, disbelieving sound.
“Margaret is dead.”
Noah looked confused.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“She told me people think that.”
Maria felt cold.
Adrian took out his phone.
He called security.
“Lock the gates.”
A voice answered.
“Sir?”
“No one leaves.”
“Mr.
Blackwood—”
“Especially Evelyn.”
There was silence.
Then:
“Sir… Ms.
Evelyn’s car left five minutes ago.”
Adrian’s expression darkened.
“How?”
“You authorized it.”
“I did not.”
“We received the gate code from your personal phone.”
Adrian slowly lowered his phone.
Maria saw something approaching behind his eyes.
Fear.
Not of Evelyn.
Of what she had access to.
His home.
His phone.
His son.
Maybe his wife.
He turned toward the broken wall.
“We’re going inside.”
Maria stared.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Noah stays here.”
“No!”
The boy grabbed her.
“I know where to go.”
Adrian shook his head.
“You’re not going back in there.”
“But Grandma is hurt.”
Adrian froze.
“What?”
“She fell.”
“When?”
“Before Evelyn found me.”
Maria crouched quickly.
“Is that why you went inside?”
Noah nodded.
“I heard her crying.”
Just like Maria had heard Noah.
Maria looked at Adrian.
Someone else might be trapped inside.
“Flashlights,” she said.
Within minutes, security guards arrived.
Adrian ordered two to search the estate.
Then he, Maria, and one guard entered the passage.
Noah remained just outside with another guard, despite furious protests.
The hidden corridor was narrow.
Dust coated the floor.
Electrical wires had been installed recently along the ceiling.
Maria touched one.
“This isn’t original.”
Adrian agreed.
“Someone renovated this.”
They followed the passage.
Ten feet.
Twenty.
Then stairs descended.
Maria frowned.
“This goes below the third floor.”
Adrian stopped.
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
At the bottom was a steel door.
New.
Keypad lock.
Maria looked at Adrian.
“You installed this?”
“No.”
The security guard swore.
Adrian tried the keypad.
Locked.
Then Maria remembered Noah’s brass key.
Old-fashioned.
No keypad.
So this wasn’t what it opened.
She looked along the frame.
“There.”
Behind a loose molding strip was an antique keyhole.
Adrian inserted Noah’s key.
The steel door clicked.
They stared.
Someone had deliberately built modern security around an old lock.
Adrian opened it.
The smell hit them first.
Medicine.
Disinfectant.
And something stale.
The room beyond looked nothing like the mansion.
White walls.
Hospital bed.
Monitors.
Cabinets filled with medication.
Maria covered her mouth.
A woman lay on the floor beside the bed.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
Barely conscious.
Adrian made a broken sound.
“Margaret?”
The woman opened her eyes.
“Adrian.”
He staggered backward.
Maria ran forward.
Pulse.
Weak but present.
“Call an ambulance.”
The guard reached for his radio.
Margaret seized Maria’s wrist.
“No police.”
“You need a hospital.”
“No.”
Her eyes searched for Adrian.
“Where’s Noah?”
“Safe.”
She closed her eyes in relief.
“Thank God.”
Adrian stood above her.
“You died.”
Margaret laughed weakly.
“That was the idea.”
“Whose idea?”
“Claire’s.”
Adrian went still.
“My wife?”
Margaret nodded.
“Your wife saved my life.”
Adrian stared.
“From whom?”
Margaret whispered one word.
“Evelyn.”
Maria felt the room contract.
Adrian looked toward the cabinets.
“What is this place?”
“A prison.”
“How long?”
“Fourteen months.”
Maria stared.
Margaret had been officially dead fifteen years.
But imprisoned only fourteen months?
Something didn’t fit.
Margaret saw the confusion.
“I lived overseas after Claire staged my death.”
“Why?”
Adrian’s voice cracked.
Margaret looked at him.
“Because Claire discovered what your family was doing.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“My family?”
“Your father.”
“My father has been dead twenty years.”
Margaret gave him a strange look.
“No, Adrian.”
Silence.
“Your father is not dead.”
Another impossible resurrection.
Maria almost wanted to laugh.
Blackwood Manor seemed full of dead people who had failed to stay dead.
Adrian whispered, “Where is he?”
Margaret’s eyes filled with fear.
“Closer than you think.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Metal scraping.
The steel door began closing.
Maria jumped.
“Hey!”
The guard ran toward it.
Too late.
It slammed shut.
Lights went out.
Darkness.
Then speakers hidden somewhere in the room crackled.
Evelyn’s voice filled the chamber.
“Adrian.”
He looked upward.
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
“I asked you to trust me.”
“You locked my son in a wall.”
A pause.
“I locked Noah away from something worse.”
Maria stared.
Adrian shouted, “You threatened him!”
“I needed him scared enough to stay hidden.”
“Why?”
Evelyn’s breathing came softly through the speaker.
“Because somebody came to the house tonight to take him.”
Maria felt ice move through her.
“The ballroom,” she whispered.
Three hundred guests.
Staff.
Drivers.
Caterers.
Anyone could have entered.
Adrian said, “Who?”
Margaret struggled upright.
“Don’t believe her.”
Evelyn laughed sadly.
“You still hate me, Margaret.”
“You kept me drugged for fourteen months.”
“To stop you from going outside.”
“You kidnapped me!”
“To keep you alive!”
The room went silent.
Adrian looked from the speaker to Margaret.
“What the hell is happening?”
Evelyn’s voice changed.
Less cold.
Almost tired.
“Claire asked me to protect Noah.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
“What?”
“Your wife.”
“No.”
“She contacted me before she died.”
“You didn’t know Claire.”
“I knew her better than you did.”
Margaret cried, “Liar!”
Evelyn continued.
“Claire discovered someone planned to kill her and take Noah eventually.”
Adrian’s voice broke.
“Who?”
“The same man who ordered Margaret’s death.”
Maria looked at Margaret.
The older woman shook her head desperately.
“Don’t listen.”
Adrian shouted, “WHO?”
Evelyn answered.
“Your father.”
The lights suddenly returned.
A monitor on the wall turned on.
A security camera feed appeared.
The ballroom.
Guests were still downstairs.
But the party had stopped.
Police cars surrounded the estate.
Armed officers moved through the foyer.
Adrian stared.
“I didn’t call them.”
“No,” Evelyn said.
“He did.”
“Who?”
The camera switched.
The mansion’s front entrance.
A black limousine had stopped outside.
An elderly man stepped from it.
Tall.
Silver-haired.
Using a cane.
Adrian staggered backward.
“No.”
Maria looked at him.
“You know him?”
Adrian’s lips parted.
The man looked directly toward the security camera.
Then smiled.
Adrian whispered:
“My father.”
The impossible man entered the mansion.
Richard Blackwood.
Dead for twenty years.
Alive tonight.
Margaret began shaking.
“We have to get Noah out.”
Adrian turned to the speaker.
“Evelyn, where is my son?”
No answer.
“Evelyn!”
Static.
Then Noah’s voice came through the speakers.
“Daddy?”
Adrian lunged toward them.
“Noah!”
“Daddy, the old man found me.”
Adrian’s face turned white.
Maria’s stomach dropped.
Then a man’s voice replaced the child’s.
Smooth.
Calm.
Old.
“Hello, son.”
Adrian froze.
Richard Blackwood continued:
“You have spent twenty years enjoying what belonged to me.”
Adrian clenched his fists.
“Put Noah on.”
“You were always impatient.”
“If you touch him—”
“I don’t intend to hurt my grandson.”
Margaret shouted, “You tried to kill Claire!”
Silence.
Then Richard laughed.
“My dear Margaret.
Still alive.
How inconvenient.”
Adrian looked shattered.
“My wife.”
“What about her?”
“Did you kill Claire?”
A pause.
Then Richard answered:
“No.”
Adrian stared.
Margaret shook her head.
“He’s lying.”
Richard continued.
“Claire Blackwood is alive.”
No one moved.
Adrian whispered, “What?”
“You heard me.”
Maria’s heart hammered.
Claire.
Noah’s mother.
Supposedly dead four years.
Richard said:
“And if you want your son back, you are finally going to learn why your wife chose to disappear.”
The monitor changed.
A new camera feed.
A small room somewhere inside the estate.
Noah sat on a couch.
Unharmed.
Terrified.
Beside him stood Richard.
Then a door behind them opened.
A woman stepped into view.
Long dark hair.
Pale face.
Adrian grabbed the edge of the hospital bed.
“No.”
The woman looked directly into the camera.
Tears filled her eyes.
“Noah.”
The boy turned.
He stared at her.
Then slowly stood.
“Mommy?”
Adrian made a sound Maria would remember for the rest of her life.
Half sob.
Half gasp.
Because the dead woman on the screen was unmistakably Claire Blackwood.
Alive.
Noah ran toward her.
But Claire stepped backward.
“No.”
His little face crumpled.
“Mommy?”
She began crying.
“Don’t touch me, sweetheart.”
“Why?”
Claire looked directly into the camera.
At Adrian.
Then she said the sentence that changed everything:
“Because Noah isn’t your son.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
Maria stared.
Margaret whispered, “Claire, don’t.”
But Claire continued.
“And Richard Blackwood didn’t come here to kidnap him.”
She looked toward the elderly man.
“He came to take Noah home.”
Adrian’s face went completely blank.
Then Noah reached for Claire again.
This time she grabbed him and pulled him against her chest.
And over the speaker, another voice suddenly screamed:
“ADRIAN, DON’T BELIEVE HER!”
Evelyn.
Then a gunshot exploded somewhere inside Blackwood Manor.
The camera went black.
…If you want to know what happened next, please type “YES” and like for more.
Source: Stories of Destiny · Huyen Huyen
