Chapter 5 - THE HOUSE WITHOUT WINDOWS
The property was registered to a company controlled by Richard Whitmore.
It stood in a wooded area outside Greenwich, Connecticut.
From the road, it looked like a luxury guesthouse.
White stone.
Tall windows.
A landscaped garden.
But the windows facing the back courtyard were covered from inside.
Ava stared at the surveillance photographs.
“She's there.”
Niko stood beside her.
“Possibly.”
“Stop saying possibly.”
He turned toward her.
“I know what you want to hear.”
“Then say it.”
“I won't lie to you.”
Ava looked away.
She had spent thirteen years surrounded by people who lied because they claimed it was for her own good.
Niko's refusal was painful.
It was also becoming the reason she trusted him.
***
They didn't storm the house.
Ava wanted to.
Niko insisted on obtaining a legal basis for entry.
Their attorney found it.
The facility had reported an unexplained transfer of a vulnerable patient whose legal guardian had changed without documented medical review.
A petition was filed.
A judge authorized an independent welfare examination.
Ava waited in the car while a court-appointed investigator and medical professional entered the property.
Twenty minutes passed.
Then forty.
At fifty-three minutes, the front door opened.
A woman in a white uniform stepped outside.
She looked shaken.
Ava was out of the car before Niko could stop her.
“Is she there?”
The woman glanced at the investigator.
Then nodded.
Ava couldn't breathe.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
The word broke something inside her.
Ava covered her mouth.
Her knees weakened.
Niko caught her elbow only after she reached for him.
“She is alive,” Ava whispered.
Then she began crying.
Not delicately.
Not beautifully.
She cried like a little girl who had been told the world was empty and suddenly discovered someone had been waiting on the other side of a locked door.
***
Eleanor Monroe was fifty-four.
Her hair had turned almost completely silver.
She sat in a wheelchair near a window overlooking the garden.
Her body was thin.
Her left hand rested motionless on a blanket.
Ava stopped in the doorway.
For eighteen years, she'd remembered her mother as a laughing woman with dark curls and paint on her fingertips.
This woman looked fragile.
Older.
Tired.
But when she turned her head, Ava recognized her eyes.
“Mom?”
Eleanor stared.
Her lips parted.
No sound came.
Ava stepped forward.
“It's me.”
Eleanor's right hand trembled.
“A…va?”
Ava collapsed to her knees.
“Yes.”
Eleanor began crying.
Ava took her hand.
“I'm here.”
Her mother tried to speak.
The words came slowly.
“Little…rose.”
Ava pressed her forehead against Eleanor's hand.
That had been her nickname.
Little Rose.
Nobody had called her that since she was ten.
***
The medical team explained that Eleanor had suffered a severe neurological injury eighteen years earlier.
Her recovery had been complicated by years of inadequate rehabilitation and unnecessary restrictions.
She could understand much more than she could express.
She had regained some speech and movement, but her progress had been limited.
Ava listened.
Then asked the question that mattered.
“Can she get better?”
The physician answered carefully.
“She may improve with appropriate treatment and therapy. But we can't promise how much.”
Ava nodded.
She had learned to distrust promises.
She could work with possibilities.
***
Niko remained outside during the reunion.
Ava noticed.
When she finally emerged, he stood near the garden wall, speaking quietly with Matteo.
He ended the call.
“How is she?”
“Alive.”
Ava smiled through tears.
“She remembered me.”
Niko's expression softened.
“I'm glad.”
Ava looked at him.
“You knew your father had something to do with her disappearance.”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know whether he was protecting her or helping imprison her.”
Ava studied him.
“And now?”
“Now I intend to find out.”
***
That night, Richard Whitmore arrived at the house.
He had been informed of the court order.
Ava stood waiting in the entrance hall.
He stopped when he saw her.
“Ava.”
She looked at him.
“You told me she was dead.”
His face crumpled.
“I thought it was the only way to protect you.”
“From what?”
“Victoria.”
Ava laughed.
“You married her.”
Richard closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“You let her raise me.”
“I know.”
“You let her steal Mom's work.”
“I know.”
Ava stepped closer.
“You watched me cry on every anniversary of Mom's death.”
Richard began shaking.
“I know.”
“Then tell me why.”
He looked toward the room where Eleanor rested.
“Because Victoria had proof that I helped cover up what happened.”
Ava felt cold.
“What happened?”
Richard swallowed.
“Your mother discovered the stolen contracts. She confronted Victoria at Bellwether.”
“And?”
“There was an argument.”
Ava stared.
“Who hurt her?”
Richard began crying.
“Bianca's mother.”
“Victoria?”
He nodded.
“Victoria pushed Eleanor down the service staircase.”
Ava couldn't move.
“Mom survived.”
“Yes.”
“And you hid her?”
Richard lowered his head.
“I signed the papers.”
Ava whispered:
“You didn't just let her disappear.”
He looked up.
May you like
“You helped make her disappear.”
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