Chapter 8 - ELEVEN MINUTES
The drive back to the estate took thirty-seven minutes.
Nathan's sons had been missing for six.
By the time Gerald turned the car around, they had been missing for seven.
Nathan stayed on the phone.
He did not shout.
That frightened me more.
"Last camera."
Static.
Then his security chief answered somewhere near him.
"North garden, sir."
"Vehicle?"
"None."
"Footprints?"
"Two sets."
"Adults?"
"Children."
Nathan closed his eyes.
"They walked out?"
"Appears so."
I leaned toward the phone.
"Marcus and Mason wouldn't leave alone."
Nathan looked toward my voice.
"Why?"
"They barely walked yesterday."
"Today they're stronger."
"Not that strong."
Gerald accelerated.
I thought about the boys.
Their habits.
Their fears.
Their trust.
The air man.
Candy.
A man with a hat.
Then I remembered Mason saying something that had seemed insignificant.
Doctor Trevor called him Mr. Dean.
Someone had used the name of a dead man around the boys.
Why?
Familiarity.
"Ask security whether anyone called the cottage phone."
Nathan turned immediately.
"Check incoming calls."
His security chief worked.
Thirty seconds.
"One call."
"When?"
"Three minutes before the boys left."
"Source?"
"Internal extension."
My pulse quickened.
"Which extension?"
A pause.
"Mrs. Coleman's old dressing room."
Nathan stared toward the mansion.
That room had been empty since Elena died.
"Recording?"
"No."
"Who was in the room?"
"Nobody should've been."
I pictured the twins hearing a voice.
A trusted voice.
Maybe their mother.
No.
Too cruel.
Then Mason's earlier words returned.
The air man gave us candy.
"What would make them walk out?" Nathan asked.
I answered.
"Someone they trusted."
Gerald's face tightened.
"Or someone pretending to be someone they trusted."
Nathan looked at me.
I said the thought I hated.
"Did Elena leave recordings?"
His face changed.
"Videos."
"Voice messages?"
"Hundreds."
Gerald swore.
Nathan turned toward security.
"Search the dressing room."
We reached the estate gate at minute eleven.
That's when Marcus was found.
He was sitting beneath a hedge near the north garden.
Barefoot.
Crying.
Alone.
Nathan reached him before the security officer finished speaking.
I had never seen a powerful man run like that.
He dropped to his knees in wet grass.
"Marcus."
The boy clung to him.
"Dad."
"Where's Mason?"
Marcus sobbed.
"He went with Mom."
Every adult froze.
Nathan's face collapsed.
"What?"
Marcus wiped his nose.
"Mom called."
I knelt.
"Marcus."
He looked at me.
"Did you hear her voice?"
He nodded.
"She said she found the blue bird."
Nathan made a sound.
I looked at him.
"What is the blue bird?"
He could barely answer.
"A music box."
"Meaning?"
"Elena used to hide it during games."
Marcus cried harder.
"Mom said Mason won."
Nathan held his son.
"Buddy, Mom is gone."
Marcus shook his head violently.
"No."
"Marcus."
"No!"
He pointed toward the woods.
"She was talking."
My stomach turned.
Someone had used a private family memory.
Not public.
Not available online.
The blue bird game belonged inside the Coleman house.
Gerald seemed to realize the same thing.
"Only family knew that."
Nathan looked up.
"Who?"
"Mrs. Coleman."
"You."
"Yes."
"Me."
"Yes."
"Dominic?"
Gerald closed his eyes.
"Yes."
We found Mason seven minutes later.
He had not gone far.
A groundskeeper discovered him inside an unused greenhouse.
He was lying on the floor.
Alive.
Unconscious.
Beside him was a small blue music box.
Nathan lifted him.
"Mason."
No response.
"Mason."
I touched the boy's face.
Cold sweat.
Weak breathing.
"Call an ambulance."
Nathan shouted for the first time.
Not rage.
Terror.
At the hospital, doctors stabilized Mason.
Bloodwork showed acute exposure layered over months of chronic illness.
The medical team refused to speculate.
This time, Nathan welcomed their caution.
I sat beside Marcus while he described what happened.
He and Mason had heard their mother's voice through the cottage phone.
She said she had come home.
She told them not to tell Nathan because she wanted to surprise him.
Then she told them to follow the garden path.
Marcus became scared.
Mason did not.
"Why?"
I asked.
Marcus wiped his eyes.
"Because she knew the song."
Nathan sat across from him.
"What song?"
Marcus looked at his father.
"The one Mom sang when the bird opened."
Nathan closed his eyes.
The recording was real.
Or taken from something real.
Security searched Elena's archived files.
One video contained the exact phrase.
"Follow the blue bird."
Someone had accessed it two weeks earlier.
Using Nathan's family server.
Credentials belonged to Dominic Coleman.
Nathan read the report twice.
Then handed it to me.
"Still think someone wants me angry?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any idea how hard that is becoming?"
"That's why it works."
He looked through the hospital glass toward Mason.
"What happened in the greenhouse?"
"Exposure."
"From what?"
"They found residue on the music box."
Nathan stared.
The cruelty was almost impossible to process.
A dead mother's voice.
A childhood game.
A contaminated keepsake.
Everything designed to make the children trust the trap.
"Dominic did this."
"Maybe."
Nathan slammed his fist against the wall.
I did not flinch.
"Stop saying maybe."
"Then stop asking me to give you certainty before we have it."
"We have his credentials."
"Which somebody could steal."
"His construction company."
"Which somebody could use."
"His name in Elena's notebook."
"Which somebody could exploit."
Nathan stared.
"What would be enough for you?"
"Proof that survives your anger."
He looked away.
A nurse approached.
"Mason is awake."
Nathan disappeared into the room.
I remained with Marcus.
He leaned against me.
"Sarah?"
"Yes?"
"Mom wasn't really there?"
My throat tightened.
"No."
"Then who talked?"
"I don't know."
He looked down at his hands.
"Mason said it wasn't Mom."
I froze.
"When?"
"In the garden."
"Why?"
Marcus looked toward the hospital room.
"Because Mom always called him Mouse."
I leaned closer.
"What did the voice call him?"
"Mason."
My heart began pounding.
The imitation had fooled them at first.
But Mason had noticed the mistake.
"What happened after he noticed?"
Marcus's face became frightened.
"He said he wanted Dad."
"And?"
"A man came out."
"What man?"
"I don't know."
"Did you see his face?"
Marcus shook his head.
"He had a mask."
"Anything else?"
The boy thought.
Then he lifted his hand.
"He had a lion here."
He pointed to his wrist.
"A tattoo?"
Marcus nodded.
I stood.
Gerald was at the end of the hallway.
I called him over.
"Lion tattoo on the wrist."
His face changed instantly.
"You know someone."
Gerald did not answer.
"Who?"
Nathan emerged from Mason's room.
Gerald looked at him.
"Mr. Coleman."
Nathan saw his face.
"Who?"
Gerald swallowed.
"Vincent Moretti."
Nathan became still.
The name was different.
The reaction was worse.
"Who is Vincent?" I asked.
May you like
Nathan's voice was empty.
"My wife's brother."
