Chapter 22
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The interior of the Ashford security SUV was silent except for the rhythmic thumping of the windshield wipers. Vivienne sat in the back seat, staring intensely at the rusted key and the damp matchbook resting in the palm of her hand. The faded logo of St. Agnes Children’s Home stared back at her, a haunting reminder of a past she was only just beginning to uncover.
"St. Agnes burned down twenty-five years ago," Samuel said from the driver's seat, his eyes focused on the slick, rain-washed road. "It was a massive structural fire. They said it was faulty wiring in the basement. The property has been abandoned ever since."
"Just like the hospital," Richard noted grimly, sitting in the passenger seat. "Malcolm’s signature move. Whenever an institution holds secrets he wants buried, they mysteriously go up in flames."
"But the letter said the three of them promised never to tell," Vivienne pointed out, carefully tracing the rusted edge of the key. "Grace Ellis, my mother, and the third woman. They were connected to St. Agnes before the hospital. That’s where the three children come from."
"And one of those children is you," Laura Bennett said over the police radio crackling on the dashboard. She was following closely behind them in her unmarked cruiser. "If we find the records at St. Agnes, we might identify the other two."
"If Malcolm didn't burn them all," Richard added cynically.
"Theodore wouldn't have led us to an ash heap unless there was something left to find," Vivienne said with absolute certainty. "He left this key for a reason. There’s something at St. Agnes that survived the fire."
Samuel turned the steering wheel sharply, navigating the SUV off the main highway and onto a broken, unpaved road that led deep into the dense, overgrown woods on the outskirts of the city. The skeletal remains of burnt trees began to appear, looming in the fog like silent witnesses to a decades-old tragedy.
Through the heavy rain, the ruins of St. Agnes Children's Home finally came into view. It was a massive, gothic structure of blackened stone and collapsed roofs. Nature had reclaimed the site, with thick ivy crawling up the scorched brick walls and weeds choking the cracked stone pathways.
Samuel brought the SUV to a halt in the muddy courtyard.
"Stay close," Richard ordered, pulling a heavy flashlight from the glove compartment. "The structural integrity of this place is compromised. One wrong step and the floor could give way."
May you like
Vivienne stepped out into the freezing rain, the rusted key clutched tightly in her fist. She looked up at the towering, blackened facade of the orphanage. A deep, unsettling chill ran down her spine, completely unrelated to the weather. She felt a strange, terrifying sense of familiarity.
"I've been here before," Vivienne whispered into the wind. "I don't remember it, but I know I've been here."
