"Elena."
She stopped.
"Yes?"
"Have you seen the girls?"
"They're in the east sitting room."
"Together?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Elena smiled politely.
But Alessandro noticed that her fingers were trembling.
He said nothing.
She left.
Marco watched the door close.
"Something wrong?"
Alessandro picked up his coffee.
"Not yet."
Outside, in the east sitting room, Isabella and Sofia were building a castle from wooden blocks.
Their nanny, Margaret, sat nearby reading a book.
The girls had been told not to enter the west wing.
It was an old part of the house, separated from the main residence by a corridor and two security doors. Most of the rooms had been closed after Lucia's death.
The staff called it the quiet wing.
The girls called it Mommy's hallway.
They remembered their mother walking there with them.
They remembered the smell of her perfume.
They remembered the music she used to play while getting them ready for bed.
They remembered more than Alessandro realized.
That morning, while Margaret answered a telephone call, Isabella noticed that the door leading toward the west wing was slightly open.
"Sofia."
Her sister continued stacking blocks.
"Sofia!"
"What?"
"Come."
"Where?"
Isabella pointed.
The two girls looked toward the open door.
Margaret was still speaking on the telephone.
"We're not supposed to go there," Sofia whispered.
Isabella tilted her head.
"Maybe Mommy left something."
Sofia looked down at Mr. Buttons.
"Mommy is in heaven."
"I know."
"Then how can she leave something?"
Isabella did not answer immediately.
Instead, she took her sister's hand.
"Maybe she left it before."
There was something in the way she said it that made Sofia follow.
They slipped into the corridor.
The west wing was colder than the rest of the house. The curtains were closed, and the afternoon sunlight barely reached the dark wooden floor.
At the end of the hallway stood a small sitting room.
Lucia's sitting room.
The furniture had not been moved.
A piano stood beside the window. A framed photograph rested on the mantel. It showed Lucia holding both girls as newborns, smiling toward the camera.
Sofia approached the photograph.
"Mommy."
Isabella climbed onto a small chair.
"Look."
Behind the chair was a narrow cabinet.
The cabinet had once held Lucia's books, but most of them had been removed.
One remained.
A red leather journal.
Isabella recognized it.
She had seen her mother holding it before.
"That's Mommy's book."
Sofia reached for it.
The journal slipped from the shelf and fell open.
Several papers scattered across the floor.
One was a photograph.
Another was a handwritten note.
Isabella picked it up.
The handwriting was familiar.
She could not read every word, but she recognized the name written at the top.
ALESSANDRO.
"Daddy," she whispered.
Sofia moved closer.
"What does it say?"
Isabella examined the paper.
At the bottom, there was a small drawing of a key.
Beneath it were three words.
THE HOUSE REMEMBERS.
The girls looked at each other.
Then Isabella noticed a small mark on the floor beside the cabinet.
A thin metal line.
She crouched.
The wooden panel shifted slightly beneath her hand.
Sofia knelt beside her.
"Don't."
"Why?"
"Maybe it's dangerous."
Isabella looked at the note again.
Then she remembered something.
Their mother used to play a game with them.
Whenever Lucia wanted to hide a surprise, she would tap three times on a wooden surface.
The girls would listen for the sound that came back.
A hollow sound meant the surprise was hidden underneath.
Isabella tapped the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
A hollow sound answered.
Sofia's eyes widened.
"There's something under there."
Isabella pressed against the panel.
It moved.
Beneath it was a narrow metal compartment with a black security device and an old mechanical lock.
Sofia began to cry.
"We should tell Daddy."
Isabella nodded.
But before either girl could move, a voice came from the doorway.
"What are you doing?"
Elena stood there.
Her face had gone pale.
She stared at the open compartment.
Then at the paper in Isabella's hand.
For several seconds, she did not move.
"Put that down."
Isabella clutched the note.
"Mommy left it."
Elena stepped forward.
"Give it to me."
"No."
"Isabella, I said give it to me."
Sofia began crying harder.
Elena's expression changed.
She looked toward the hallway.
Then she quickly closed the sitting room door.
"Listen to me," she whispered. "You must not tell your father what you found."
Isabella frowned.
"Why?"
"Because he will be very angry."
"At us?"
Elena did not answer.
She reached for the journal.
Isabella pulled it against her chest.
"Don't take Mommy's book."
Elena froze.
For a moment, something resembling guilt crossed her face.
Then she heard footsteps approaching.
She stepped backward.
"Go back to your nanny."