CHAPTER 4 — THE TRAITOR UNDER THE ROOF
CHAPTER 4 — THE TRAITOR UNDER THE ROOF
By eight o'clock that morning, Cain House no longer felt like a home.
It felt like a fortress preparing for war.
Armed guards patrolled every hallway.
The gates were sealed.
Every employee surrendered their phones.
Every vehicle entering the estate was searched.
Emma had never seen so many frightened faces gathered in one place.
She wondered which of them wanted her dead.
Adrian entered the breakfast room exactly on time.
His left arm remained bandaged beneath a tailored black jacket.
If the wound hurt, he gave no sign.
Victor Graves sat across the table, calmly pouring coffee.
"You look well," Victor said pleasantly.
"I've looked worse."
"I'm glad to hear it."
Emma placed Luca's breakfast in front of him.
The little boy smiled.
"Thank you."
Adrian noticed something.
Luca always thanked Emma.
He never thanked the other nannies.
Children noticed things adults ignored.
Victor glanced toward Emma.
"You've adjusted quickly."
"I'm trying."
"You'll find working here requires loyalty."
Emma smiled politely.
"I believe loyalty has to be earned."
The sentence hung in the air.
Victor's smile never changed.
But Adrian noticed.
So did Victor.
Breakfast ended quietly.
Then Adrian stood.
"No one leaves the estate."
Victor looked surprised.
"For how long?"
"Until I know who invited a killer into my house."
Several servants exchanged frightened looks.
Victor folded his napkin.
"You think the murderer is here?"
Adrian answered without hesitation.
"I know he is."
That afternoon, Adrian summoned Emma to the library.
The old radio sat on the table.
Disassembled.
Every piece carefully arranged.
"I need your help."
"My help?"
"You recognize songs."
She laughed softly.
"I recognize old music."
"That's enough."
He handed her a faded notebook recovered from inside the radio.
Most pages were ruined.
Only fragments remained.
Emma read aloud.
"If they ever silence me..."
The next line was missing.
"Only the melody..."
Another gap.
"The child must never..."
She looked up.
"These pages were torn out."
"Recently."
"How can you tell?"
"The paper aged."
He pointed toward the missing edges.
"The tears didn't."
Someone had hidden the notebook.
Then returned years later.
To remove only certain pages.
Someone who knew exactly what they were looking for.
Emma slowly closed the notebook.
"They're still searching."
Adrian nodded.
"They believe something is hidden."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"Then why kill people?"
He looked directly into her eyes.
"Because whatever my mother hid..."
"...was worth murdering an entire generation to keep buried."
That evening, Emma carried clean laundry past the west hallway.
She heard footsteps behind her.
Slow.
Measured.
She turned.
No one.
She kept walking.
Again.
Footsteps.
Closer.
Her heartbeat quickened.
She reached the corner—
A hand grabbed her shoulder.
Emma screamed.
The laundry scattered across the floor.
She spun around.
It was Victor.
He smiled apologetically.
"My goodness."
"You frightened me."
"I didn't mean to."
He bent to help gather the towels.
Then quietly whispered,
"You should leave."
Emma froze.
"What?"
"This house destroys good people."
"Why are you telling me that?"
His eyes briefly softened.
"Because your grandmother once saved someone I loved."
Emma stared.
"You knew Rose?"
"I knew of her."
Before Emma could ask another question—
Adrian's voice echoed down the hallway.
"Emma."
Victor immediately stepped away.
His warm expression vanished.
Professional.
Controlled.
As though the conversation had never happened.
Adrian approached.
His eyes moved from Victor...
...to Emma...
...to the towels scattered on the floor.
"What happened?"
Victor answered first.
"She slipped."
Emma looked at him.
He smiled.
Exactly the same smile he had worn all morning.
Perfect.
Polite.
Completely false.
For the first time, Emma realized something terrifying.
Victor Graves lied as naturally as other people breathed.
And somehow...
Adrian still trusted him.
Or pretended to.
That night, Adrian sat alone in his office, replaying a security recording recovered from a hallway camera.
The video showed Emma dancing in the kitchen.
Flour exploding.
The radio playing.
Then, for less than half a second—
Just before Victor entered the kitchen—
A reflection appeared in the polished oven door.
Not Adrian.
Not Emma.
A third person.
Standing silently inside the dark pantry.
Watching everything.
The timestamp proved one horrifying fact.
The killer had been inside the kitchen...
the entire time.
Watching Emma discover the song.
Watching Adrian find the hidden note.
Watching both of them take the first step toward a secret buried for more than twenty-five years.
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And now...
the killer knew exactly how close they were to uncovering the truth.
