PART 5 — THE ROOM BEHIND THE LIGHTHOUSE

Police reached the beach house before Marcus.

Sarah wasn’t there.

Neither was Julian.

The old property stood facing a furious black Atlantic, its windows reflecting police flashlights.

Marcus had not been inside since Hannah’s death.

The smell hit him first.

Cedar.

Salt.

The faint lavender scent Hannah had loved.

For one brutal second, he expected her to come down the stairs.

Instead, Detective Ortiz touched his shoulder.

“The lighthouse.”

Marcus nodded.

They went upstairs.

Lily’s old room remained almost untouched.

Painted clouds crossed the ceiling.

A faded stuffed rabbit sat beside the bed.

And on a shelf stood the wooden lighthouse.

Marcus lifted it.

Nothing happened.

Then he remembered Hannah showing Lily the music box years earlier.

“You turn the light,” he whispered.

He twisted the tiny wooden lantern at the top.

Click.

A hidden compartment opened beneath the base.

Inside was a brass key.

And a note.

Marcus recognized Hannah’s handwriting immediately.

Not the box. The wall.

Marcus looked toward the wallpaper.

Tiny lighthouses covered it.

One was different.

Its painted beam pointed downward instead of toward the sea.

Ortiz pressed against it.

A section of wall moved.

Behind it was a narrow storage room.

Marcus stepped inside.

Files.

Hard drives.

Photographs.

Financial records.

And medical documents.

Hundreds of them.

Ortiz stared.

“My God.”

Marcus opened the first folder.

It contained foundation bank transfers dating back nearly eight years.

The next contained photographs of Sarah—then Sophie Hale—meeting with contractors, accountants and medical administrators.

Marcus picked up another file.

At the top was a name.

JULIAN CROSS.

But underneath his photograph were words that changed everything.

PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR — RETAINED BY HANNAH VANCE.

Marcus stopped breathing.

“Ortiz.”

She came closer.

Marcus handed her the file.

Julian wasn’t Sarah’s partner.

Hannah had hired him.

There was a handwritten entry from Hannah.

Julian believes Sophie knows we’re watching her. If anything happens to me, he has the second copy.

Marcus looked at Ortiz.

“Second copy of what?”

Behind them came a voice.

“Of everything.”

They spun.

Julian stood in the doorway.

His hands were raised.

Police rushed forward.

“Don’t!” Marcus shouted.

Julian didn’t resist as they searched him.

He looked exhausted.

Older than Marcus had realized.

“Where’s Sarah?” Ortiz demanded.

“I don’t know.”

“Why were you in Marcus’s basement?”

“Because Sarah believed Hannah hid evidence there. I let her believe I was helping.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened.

“You came into my house while my daughter was being drugged.”

Julian lowered his head.

“I didn’t know about Lily until three weeks ago.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I spent four years trying to prove what happened to Hannah.”

Marcus lunged toward him before Ortiz caught his arm.

“What happened to Hannah?”

Julian’s eyes filled with something Marcus hadn’t expected.

Grief.

“Her illness was real.”

Marcus froze.

“But somebody made it worse.”

No one spoke.

Julian reached slowly into his shirt.

Ortiz tensed.

He pulled out an old silver chain.

On it hung a tiny lighthouse.

Exactly like Lily’s.

Marcus stared.

“Where did you get that?”

Julian swallowed.

“Hannah gave it to me when we were children.”

Marcus’s face went blank.

Julian said:

“Her father wasn’t my father.”

Then, softly:

“Hannah was my sister.”

Marcus staggered backward.

“She never had a brother.”

“She wasn’t allowed to talk about me.”

Julian looked toward the hidden room.

“But she never stopped looking for me.”

Marcus turned to Evelyn, who had arrived behind the officers.

Her expression answered the question before Marcus asked it.

“You knew.”

Evelyn began to cry.

“Yes.”

Julian looked at the files.

“Hannah found me six months before she got sick. Then she uncovered the foundation fraud. Sarah—Sophie—was part of it.”

Marcus whispered, “Did Sarah kill Hannah?”

Julian shook his head.

“I couldn’t prove it.”

Then Ortiz opened a medical folder.

Inside were copies of Hannah’s old blood tests.

Several pages had been circled.

A handwritten note ran across the bottom.

Ask why my levels change only after Sophie visits.

Marcus closed his eyes.

And for the first time in four years, grief became something else.

Rage.