Chapter 5 - HELENA'S LAST PROMISE
Nora remembered the rain first.
Not the faces.
Not the words.
Rain against glass.
Rain running down the winter-garden windows while six-year-old Nora Bennett sat beneath a table with her knees pulled to her chest.
For eighteen years, her mind had hidden the rest.
Now it came back in pieces.
Her mother had died thirteen days earlier.
Clara Bennett had left their apartment on a Wednesday morning wearing a navy coat and red scarf.
She kissed Nora’s forehead.
“Mrs. Wren is picking you up from school.”
“Why?”
“Because Mama has work.”
“You always have work.”
Clara smiled.
“This is important work.”
She never returned.
A police officer later told Nora there had been an accident.
A social worker told her Clara’s car had gone through a barrier.
Evelyn Wren took Nora home temporarily.
Then one night Helena Hawthorne arrived at Evelyn’s cottage.
Helena had been crying.
Nora remembered that now.
Helena knelt in front of her.
“Your mother was very brave.”
“Can I see her?”
The pain in Helena’s face had frightened her.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Did she go to heaven?”
“I hope so.”
“Are you going to die too?”
Helena looked toward Evelyn.
Neither woman answered.
Three nights later, Helena brought Nora to Alderwyn.
Not through the front entrance.
Through a kitchen door.
“You must stay close to Mrs. Wren,” Helena told her.
“Why?”
“Because some adults have forgotten how to tell the truth.”
Nora did not understand.
Helena brought her to the winter garden.
She wore the black-enamel locket.
Nora remembered touching the emerald.
“Pretty.”
Helena smiled.
“It belonged to my mother.”
“Then why do you wear it?”
“So I remember that love can outlive the person who gave it.”
Later Helena photographed them together.
She knelt beside Nora.
Then voices sounded in the corridor.
Helena’s face changed.
She pushed the locket over Nora’s head.
“It’s too big.”
“Keep it inside your dress.”
“Why?”
“If we get separated, you give this to Julian.”
“Who’s Julian?”
“My son.”
“Is he nice?”
For the first time that night, Helena laughed.
“Sometimes.”
Nora smiled.
Then Helena held her face.
“If anybody tells you I gave it to you by mistake, they’re lying.”
“Okay.”
“If anybody tells you your mother was a bad person, they’re lying.”
“Okay.”
“And if anybody frightens you—”
Helena stopped.
Footsteps were approaching.
She pushed Nora toward the curtain.
“Hide.”
That was where memory had ended for eighteen years.
Until tonight.
Now Nora sat in Alderwyn’s library with a blanket around her shoulders and told Julian everything.
Detective Ellis recorded from across the table.
Daniel stood near the door.
The attacker from the balcony had escaped through the conservatory before police closed the grounds.
The blackout had lasted six minutes.
Someone had disabled the backup generator manually.
An inside job.
Nora continued.
“I heard your mother arguing with Malcolm.”
Julian did not move.
“What did he say?”
“He told her my mother had forced everyone’s hand.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try.”
Nora closed her eyes.
The memory sharpened.
Helena: Clara discovered what you were doing. That wasn’t a death sentence.
Malcolm: She was going to the attorney general.
Helena: Then you should have gone to prison.
A second man had been there.
Nora could not see him.
But she heard him.
Helena, think about Julian.
Julian leaned forward.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Richard?”
“Maybe.”
The voice in Nora’s memory was younger than the Richard Prescott downstairs.
But eighteen years could change a voice.
“What happened next?”
Nora dug her nails into the blanket.
“They came into the winter garden.”
“Did they see you?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Your mother had a folder.”
“What kind?”
“Blue.”
Julian looked at Daniel.
“The ledger was blue.”
Nora nodded.
“She said she had copies.”
Malcolm demanded them.
Helena refused.
Then the second man knocked a glass from a table.
It shattered.
Nora startled.
Her shoe moved beneath the curtain.
Malcolm saw it.
Nora’s breath stopped as memory became immediate.
A hand ripped the curtain aside.
Malcolm Hawthorne looked down at her.
Younger.
Dark-haired.
Furious.
“Well,” he said.
Helena stepped between them.
“Leave her alone.”
Malcolm stared at Nora.
“So Clara left us a witness.”
“She’s six.”
“Children remember.”
“Not if you leave her alone.”
The second man entered.
Nora could not see his full face.
Only a heavy ring.
Gold.
Black stone.
He said, “This has gone too far.”
Helena answered, “It went too far when Clara’s brakes failed.”
Malcolm looked at the other man.
That was the moment Nora understood.
Adults could be afraid too.
The second man stepped backward.
“I never agreed to that.”
Malcolm smiled.
“No. You only benefited from everything before it.”
Helena grabbed Nora.
“Run.”
They reached the corridor.
Malcolm followed.
Nora remembered Helena pushing open the balcony door.
Why the balcony?
Because the corridor was blocked.
The second man came from the other direction.
Nora screamed.
Malcolm grabbed her.
He lifted her.
Helena attacked him.
She clawed at his face.
Malcolm struck her.
Then held Nora over the railing.
“Where are the copies?”
Helena stared at the child hanging above the garden.
“Please.”
Julian closed his eyes.
He had never imagined his mother saying that word to Malcolm.
Nora continued.
“Your mother told him the copies were gone.”
Malcolm didn’t believe her.
He shook me.
I screamed.
Helena rushed forward.
The second man said, “Malcolm, stop.”
Malcolm yelled, “Stay out of this.”
Helena grabbed Nora.
For one second both adults held her.
Then Malcolm released Nora.
Too suddenly.
Helena fell forward trying to pull her back.
Nora hit the balcony floor.
Helena went over.
Julian’s face became empty.
Nobody spoke.
Nora covered her mouth.
“I saw her hands.”
“What?”
Julian whispered.
“She caught the edge.”
His eyes filled.
“She didn’t fall immediately?”
“No.”
Nora cried openly now.
“She was hanging there.”
Malcolm stood above her.
Helena looked at him.
The second man said, “Help her.”
Malcolm did not.
Helena tried to pull herself up.
Then Malcolm crouched.
For one second Nora thought he would save her.
Instead, he removed Helena’s fingers from the stone.
One.
By.
One.
Julian stood so quickly the chair fell backward.
Daniel moved toward him.
Julian walked to the fireplace.
His hands trembled.
Nora’s voice broke.
“I’m sorry.”
He stared into the flames.
“My mother was alive.”
“Yes.”
“He could have saved her.”
“Yes.”
“And he—”
Julian could not finish.
Detective Ellis stopped the recording.
“Take a minute.”
“No.”
Julian turned.
“Do not stop because of me.”
His eyes were red.
“Finish it.”
Nora nodded.
After Helena fell, the second man vomited near the balcony door.
Malcolm turned toward Nora.
He grabbed her.
“You saw nothing.”
She screamed.
Evelyn Wren appeared.
She had been hiding nearby.
She hit Malcolm with a fireplace poker.
He fell.
Evelyn took Nora and ran.
They escaped through a servants’ staircase.
Before leaving, Evelyn hid Nora inside her car.
Then she returned to the house.
“Why?” Ellis asked.
“She said she had to help Mrs. Hawthorne.”
“But Helena had fallen.”
“I was six. I didn’t understand.”
“Then what?”
“Mrs. Wren came back twenty minutes later. There was blood on her sleeve.”
Julian looked up.
“Helena?”
“I don’t know.”
Nora continued.
Evelyn drove her to a motel.
The next morning, news announced Helena Hawthorne’s death.
Evelyn sat on the bathroom floor and cried.
Then she told Nora something.
“You must forget Alderwyn.”
Two days later, Nora was taken to an aunt in Pennsylvania.
Evelyn disappeared from her life.
Nora kept the locket hidden.
Until three months ago.
“Why did you come back?” Julian asked.
“My aunt died last year. I found a box of my mother’s things. Inside was a letter from Evelyn.”
“What did it say?”
Nora reached into the pocket of Julian’s jacket.
She removed a folded envelope.
“I’ve carried it every day since I came here.”
Julian opened it.
The letter contained only six lines.
Nora,
If Alderwyn ever opens the west wing again, go back.
Do not trust Malcolm Hawthorne.
Do not trust Richard Prescott.
Find Helena’s star before they do.
And whatever happens, remember: Julian was a child too.
Julian read the final sentence twice.
“Was?”
Nora nodded.
“That’s what I thought was strange.”
Detective Ellis leaned over.
“Maybe it means he was innocent.”
“No.”
Nora looked toward the doorway.
“I think it means something else.”
Julian frowned.
“What?”
She pointed to the blue ledger.
“Your mother wrote about winter records.”
“Yes.”
“What if she wasn’t talking about business records?”
Daniel spoke.
“A birth record?”
Julian stared.
“No.”
Nora looked at him.
“Your mother told me you were a child too.”
“That proves nothing.”
“No.”
She swallowed.
“But your uncle raised you after she died.”
“Yes.”
“And controlled the family company until you were twenty-eight.”
“Yes.”
“And if Helena discovered Malcolm was stealing millions, killing witnesses, and working with the Prescotts…”
Nora hesitated.
“What?”
Julian demanded.
“She might have done more than hide evidence.”
Detective Ellis opened the ledger again.
Near the final page, beneath columns of money transfers, a single sentence had been written.
If Malcolm learns the truth about Julian’s birth, he will destroy the boy before he loses control of Hawthorne.
Julian stared at the words.
“My birth?”
Nobody answered.
He looked at Daniel.
Then Ellis.
Then Nora.
“My father was Adrian Hawthorne.”
Nora whispered, “Maybe.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“What are you saying?”
The library door opened.
Richard Prescott stood there.
Behind him were two officers.
His face was gray.
“I’m saying,” Richard said, “that Malcolm has lied to you about almost everything.”
Julian stepped toward him.
May you like
Richard continued.
“Including who your father was.”
