Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Vanished
The darkness lasted only eleven seconds.
It was enough.
When the chandeliers returned, Victoria Langford was gone.
So was the document.
Marcus Reed reacted immediately.
“Lock down the service exits.”
His security team moved.
Vincent remained beside Isabella.
Emma noticed that before anything else.
He didn’t chase Victoria.
He didn’t demand explanations.
His first instinct was to make certain his mother was safe.
“Are you all right?”
Isabella nodded.
But Emma saw her shaking.
“Maybe we should get her somewhere quieter.”
Vincent looked at Emma.
Then at the crowd.
“You’re right.”
Within minutes, Isabella was moved into a private sitting room adjoining the ballroom. Emma expected to be dismissed.
Instead, Isabella caught her hand.
“Stay.”
Emma looked at Vincent.
He nodded.
So Emma stayed.
Marcus entered ten minutes later.
“Victoria left through the west catering corridor.”
Daniel frowned.
“That requires an employee access card.”
“Exactly.”
The room became quiet.
Vincent looked at him.
“Who has access?”
“Managers. Supervisors. Senior catering staff.”
“Can you identify which card opened the door?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Daniel left.
Emma sat beside Isabella.
Her phone vibrated.
Sophie.
Emma ignored it.
It vibrated again.
Then again.
Vincent noticed.
“You can answer.”
“It’s okay.”
“It may be important.”
Emma glanced at Isabella.
The older woman smiled.
“Answer your sister.”
Emma froze.
“How did you know it was my sister?”
“You checked the screen three times and smiled the first time.”
Despite everything, Emma laughed softly.
She answered.
“Hey.”
“Emma, Dad’s blood pressure dropped.”
Her smile disappeared.
“What?”
“They’re running tests. I’m at the hospital.”
Emma stood.
“Is he awake?”
“Yes, but they want family here.”
“I’m coming.”
She ended the call.
“I’m sorry. I have to leave.”
Vincent rose.
“What hospital?”
“Northwestern Memorial.”
“My driver will take you.”
“No, thank you. The train—”
“The driver.”
Emma stared at him.
“I don’t need special treatment because I helped your mother.”
Something flickered in Vincent’s expression.
“This isn’t special treatment. Your father is in the hospital, and my car is downstairs.”
Isabella squeezed Emma’s hand.
“Go.”
Emma finally nodded.
Thirty minutes later, she was running through a hospital corridor.
Sophie met her outside their father’s room.
“He’s stable.”
Emma hugged her.
Only then did she allow herself to breathe.
Robert Carter was awake when they entered.
“You look terrible,” he told Emma.
She laughed through tears.
“You’re one to talk.”
He smiled.
Then noticed her catering uniform.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
Emma and Sophie exchanged looks.
Robert immediately understood.
“What happened?”
“It’s complicated.”
“How complicated?”
Emma sat beside him.
“I might have been fired.”
“Might?”
“Probably.”
Robert closed his eyes.
“Emma.”
“It wasn’t because I did anything wrong.”
She told him.
Not everything.
Only enough.
An elderly woman.
An angry guest.
A raised hand.
Emma intervening.
Her father listened silently.
When she finished, he looked at her.
“I’m proud of you.”
Emma blinked.
“Dad, we need the money.”
“I know.”
“Sophie’s tuition—”
“I know.”
“The hospital bills—”
“Emma.”
He reached for her hand.
“I’d rather owe every hospital in Illinois than have you become the kind of person who watches somebody helpless get hurt because you’re afraid of losing a paycheck.”
Emma’s eyes filled.
Her father squeezed her fingers.
“We’ll figure it out.”
She laughed softly.
“That’s my line.”
“Wonder where you got it.”
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Emma Carter?”
“Yes.”
“This is Marcus Reed.”
She straightened.
“Is Mrs. Moretti okay?”
“She’s fine.”
Emma relaxed.
“But we need to speak with you.”
“Why?”
“We identified the access card used to open the west corridor.”
Emma waited.
“It was yours.”
Her blood turned cold.
“That’s impossible.”
“Your employee card opened the door at 9:47.”
“No. I had it.”
Emma reached toward her apron.
The pocket was empty.
She searched again.
Nothing.
Her access card was gone.
“I didn’t give it to anyone.”
“I believe you.”
Emma stopped.
“You do?”
“We reviewed footage.”
“And?”
“You still had your card at 9:31. At 9:38, someone bumped into you near the champagne station.”
Emma remembered.
A catering supervisor carrying folded napkins.
“Who?”
“We’re identifying him.”
Emma’s mind raced.
“So someone stole my card?”
“It appears so.”
“Why?”
“That’s what Mr. Moretti wants to know.”
Marcus paused.
“There’s something else.”
Emma looked at Sophie.
“What?”
“The missing document wasn’t the only thing Victoria took.”
“What else?”
“An envelope was removed from Mrs. Moretti’s wheelchair.”
Emma remembered seeing a cream-colored envelope tucked beneath Isabella’s shawl earlier.
“What was inside?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Information Mrs. Moretti planned to give her son tonight.”
“What information?”
“She hasn’t told us yet.”
Emma looked through the hospital room window toward her father.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Mrs. Moretti insists you should know.”
“Why?”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Because she says the envelope is the reason Victoria confronted her.”
Emma’s skin prickled.
“What was written on it?”
Another pause.
“Your name.”
Emma stopped breathing.
“My name?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t make sense. I’d never met Mrs. Moretti before tonight.”
“I know.”
Emma looked at Sophie.
Her sister could tell something was wrong.
Marcus continued.
“Mrs. Moretti says otherwise.”
“What does that mean?”
“She says she knew exactly who you were before you ever approached her.”
Emma gripped the phone.
“That’s impossible.”
“Perhaps.”
“Why would Isabella Moretti know me?”
Marcus was silent.
Then he said the words that turned an already impossible night into something far stranger.
“According to her, it has something to do with your mother.”
Emma stared at the floor.
Her mother had been dead for seven years.
“What does my mother have to do with the Morettis?”
“I think,” Marcus said quietly, “Mrs. Moretti wants to tell you herself.”
And suddenly Emma knew she had not stepped into Victoria Langford’s secret by accident.
May you like
She had been connected to it long before she entered that ballroom.
---
