Chapter 2 - The Estate
The iron gates of my parents’ sprawling Connecticut estate were wide open, flanked by half a dozen police cruisers. The flashing red and blue lights reflected off the manicured lawns and the glass of the greenhouse where my son had nearly died.
I had insisted on coming. Vance tried to stop me, but David drove us right through the police barricade.
As I stepped out of the car, I saw my mother, Eleanor, being escorted out of the front door in handcuffs. Her perfectly tailored Chanel suit was wrinkled, but her chin was held high. She looked at me not with remorse, but with cold, calculating disdain.
“You’re making a terrible mistake, Elena,” my mother said, her voice smooth like poisoned honey. “You don't understand the sacrifices we make for this family.”
“Where is he?” I screamed, lunging forward, only to be held back by David. “Where is Toby?!”
My mother’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second—a crack in her flawless porcelain mask. Then, she smiled. It was the same chilling smirk Caroline had worn when she told me to check the compost.
Inside, forensics teams were tearing the house apart. Vance led David and me toward the back of the property, near the greenhouse.
“Your father isn't talking,” Vance said, stepping over a broken terracotta pot. “And your sister, Caroline, managed to slip away before my officers arrived. We have a BOLO out for her.”
“Why are we at the greenhouse?” David asked, his eyes scanning the dark glass structure.
“Because of the dogs,” Vance replied.
Two K-9 units were barking frantically at a patch of stone flooring near the rear of the greenhouse, right next to the compost bins. Vance gestured to a pair of officers equipped with sledgehammers.
“Break it down,” Vance ordered.
May you like
The sound of shattering stone echoed through the cold morning air. Beneath the decorative flooring was a heavy steel trapdoor, secured by a biometric padlock.
“They weren't just storing gardening supplies down there,” Vance said grimly. “Get the blowtorch.”
