Mara slipped the folded paper into her pocket as the others entered the dining room.
The words remained in her mind.
One of you lied.
It was hardly a revelation. Everyone gathered at Blackthorn House had some connection to Nora Bell's disappearance. Lies were practically guaranteed.
But who had left the note beneath the grandfather clock?
And why had they wanted her to find it?
The dining room was long and narrow, with dark wooden walls and heavy curtains covering the windows. A chandelier hung above a table set for eight. Seven places were arranged along its sides, while a single chair stood at the head.
Mara counted the settings.
Seven guests.
Adrian Cross remained standing near the doorway.
"Please, take your seats," he said. "Mrs Finch will serve dinner shortly."
"You're not joining us?" Daniel asked.
"No. My responsibilities are elsewhere."
"Convenient," Evelyn muttered.
Adrian pretended not to hear.
Mara chose a seat between Leah and Simon. Across from her sat Ruth, Daniel and Peter. Evelyn occupied the remaining place.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Leah broke the silence.
"Does anyone know why we're actually here?"
"Apparently, to discuss Nora Bell," Daniel replied.
"That's what the invitation says. I'm asking why the judge waited until after his death to bring us together."
"Perhaps he wanted to avoid answering questions himself," Evelyn said.
Peter shifted in his chair.
"Maybe he thought we would never speak if he didn't force us."
Everyone turned towards him.
"Interesting," Mara said. "You sound as though you know something."
Peter looked down at his plate.
"I worked here when I was younger. I know this house."
"But do you know what happened to Nora?"
His jaw tightened.
"Not everything."
Before Mara could ask another question, the dining room doors opened.
An elderly woman entered carrying a serving tray. Her silver hair was neatly pinned, and her expression was almost as formal as the room itself.
"Mrs Finch," Adrian introduced her from the doorway. "She has looked after the house for many years."
Mrs Finch placed the dishes on the table.
As she moved behind Mara's chair, she paused.
"You're the journalist," she whispered.
Mara turned slightly.
"Yes."
Mrs Finch looked towards the others before speaking again.
"Be careful what you ask in this house."
Then she continued serving dinner as though nothing had happened.
Mara watched her leave.
Another warning.
Another person who knew more than they were willing to say.
Dinner continued, but the atmosphere grew increasingly uncomfortable.
Evelyn eventually put down her fork.
"We should stop pretending this is an ordinary gathering. Someone has accused us of concealing the truth. I would like to know what evidence exists before this becomes some theatrical performance."
"Evidence?" Ruth repeated. "My daughter disappeared. What more do you need?"
Evelyn's expression softened slightly.
"Mrs Bell, I understand—"
"No, you don't."
Ruth's voice trembled.
"You all went home after the investigation. You continued with your lives. I spent twenty years wondering whether my daughter was alive, whether she was hurt, whether she had called for me and nobody answered."
Daniel looked away.
Mara noticed.
"Daniel," she said, "you were responsible for the investigation. Did you ever consider reopening it?"
"Several times."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Because there was no reliable evidence to justify it."
"That's what your report said."
"It was the conclusion at the time."
"Was it the truth?"
Daniel stared at her.
"Not every report tells the whole story."
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Simon adjusted his glasses.
"Perhaps we should hear what Judge Harrow actually left behind. That's why we're here, isn't it?"
As if summoned by the suggestion, Adrian appeared at the dining room entrance.
"If everyone has finished, I would like you to follow me."
Nobody objected.
He led them through the hallway and into the study.
The room was lined with bookshelves reaching almost to the ceiling. A large desk stood beside the fireplace, and a portrait of Judge Harrow hung above it.
The judge appeared older in the painting than Mara remembered from newspaper photographs. His expression was stern, his eyes fixed on something beyond the frame.
On the desk sat a small audio recorder.
Adrian closed the door.
"Judge Harrow left a recording with instructions that it be played in the presence of all seven guests."
"Why didn't he simply leave us letters?" Leah asked.
"He wanted his message heard together."
Adrian pressed a button.
A brief crackle filled the room.
Then a man's voice emerged.
"If you are hearing this, I am no longer alive. I hope that, at the very least, my death has made you more willing to listen than my warnings did."
Mara leaned forward.
She recognised the voice from old interviews and court recordings.
Judge Edmund Harrow.
"The disappearance of Nora Bell was never properly investigated. The official account was accepted too quickly. Evidence was ignored, statements were altered, and people who knew the truth chose silence."
Daniel's face tightened.
The recording continued.
"You were each given an opportunity to speak. You chose not to. Some of you lied to protect yourselves. Others believed they were protecting someone else."
A pause.
Then the judge spoke again.
"One of you watched her die. One of you helped her disappear. And one of you has spent twenty years making sure neither truth was ever discovered."
Ruth stood abruptly.
"Stop it."
Adrian did not move.
"Please," Ruth said. "Turn it off."
But the recording continued.
"Before this investigation can be reopened, you must understand that none of you possesses the complete truth. Each of you holds a fragment. Together, those fragments may reveal what happened on the night of August eighteenth, 2006."
A sharp click followed.
The recording ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Daniel spoke.
"That's an accusation, not evidence."
"Is it wrong?" Mara asked.
He didn't answer.
Ruth had begun crying silently. Simon stared at the recorder, while Peter seemed to be struggling to control his breathing.
Leah approached the desk.
"Is there anything else?"
Adrian opened a drawer and removed a thin folder.
"Judge Harrow left seven sealed files. One for each of you. However, his instructions state that they must not be opened until tomorrow morning."
"Why?" Evelyn demanded.
"I don't know."
"You're the executor. Surely you know more than you're telling us."
Adrian closed the drawer.
"I know what I was instructed to do."
Mara studied him.
"Did Judge Harrow tell you why he chose us?"
"No."
"Did he mention Nora?"
Adrian hesitated.
"Many times."
Before Mara could continue, the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the room fell completely dark.
Ruth gasped.
Someone knocked against a chair. A glass shattered.
"Nobody move," Daniel ordered.
A few seconds later, emergency lighting flickered on.
The study was visible again, but something had changed.
The recorder was gone.
Mara looked towards the desk.
"Where is it?"
Nobody answered.
Daniel moved quickly towards the door.
"Everyone stay here."
He opened it and disappeared into the corridor.
Mara turned towards the desk. The drawer containing the seven files was still closed.
Then she noticed a small object near the fireplace.
A photograph.
She picked it up.
It showed Nora Bell standing beside the same stone wall from the photograph in her invitation. But this time, the image was clearer.
Nora was not alone.
A second person stood partly outside the frame.
Only a hand and the sleeve of a dark coat were visible.
On the back, someone had written a date.
19 August 2006.
Mara's stomach tightened.
Nora had officially disappeared on August eighteenth.
If the date on the photograph was genuine, someone had seen her the following day.
"Where did you find that?" Leah asked.
Mara turned.
"Near the fireplace."
Leah stared at the photograph.
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"Because I saw that picture before."
Mara lowered it.
"Where?"
Leah looked towards the closed study door.
"In Judge Harrow's archive. But it was filed under a different date."
Before Mara could ask another question, Daniel returned.
He was alone.
"The corridor is empty," he said.
"What about the recorder?"
"Whoever took it had a head start."
"Or they never left the room," Evelyn said.
Nobody responded.
Mara looked at the photograph again.
A picture dated one day after Nora's disappearance. A missing recorder. Seven people with different versions of the same night.
And somewhere inside Blackthorn House, someone had already begun moving the pieces.
Then three slow knocks sounded from behind the bookshelves.
Everyone froze.
A fourth knock followed.
Mara stepped towards the wall.
"Hello?"
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then a woman's voice whispered from somewhere behind the shelves.
"Please..."
Mara leaned closer.
"Who is there?"
The reply was barely audible.
"Don't let him open it."
The lights flickered again.
And this time, nobody moved.