The House Where Nobody Could Tell Them No
Chapter 11
Three months later, Elena received a package.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Iris and June at a school science fair.
They were standing beside a homemade weather station.
The caption read:
We won second place.
Underneath, June had written:
Dad said second place was still excellent. We think he was practicing being supportive.
Elena laughed.
Then she noticed something else.
The photograph had been taken by Adrian.
Not a professional photographer.
Not security.
Him.
He had finally learned how to be present.
Elena placed the photograph on her desk.
Her life had changed too.
She had accepted a position running a youth support center.
The work was smaller than Bellweather House.
The salary was smaller.
The office was definitely smaller.
But she preferred it.
She had spent years believing that people needed rescuing.
Now she understood something different.
People often needed someone to stop rescuing them and start listening.
One afternoon, Adrian called.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“June wants to know if you still have the rabbit.”
Elena smiled.
“Yes.”
“She wants it back.”
“Then I’ll return it.”
There was silence.
Then Adrian said:
“They’re doing well.”
“I’m glad.”
“They miss you.”
“I miss them too.”
Another pause.
“They’ve been asking about my father.”
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“What do you tell them?”
“The truth.”
Elena smiled.
“Good.”
Adrian hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“I found another file.”
Elena’s expression changed.
“What kind?”
“One that Celia created before she died.”
“About Eleanor?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Elena leaned back.
“What does it say?”
Adrian was silent.
Then he said:
“Project Lantern.”
The words meant nothing to Elena.
But they frightened Adrian.
“Where did you find it?”
“In Celia’s old office.”
“Was it encrypted?”
“Yes.”
“Can you open it?”
“I already did.”
Elena waited.
“What’s inside?”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“A list of children.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
“How many?”
“Forty-three.”
“Why would Celia have a list of children?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are the names connected to the medical network?”
“Some are.”
“And the others?”
“I haven’t figured that out.”
Elena stared at the porcelain rabbit on her desk.
Something cold moved through her.
The story wasn’t finished.
Not completely.
But this time, there was no mansion.
No locked west wing.
No frightened children hiding under tables.
There were forty-three names.
And somewhere, someone had been waiting for the truth to surface.
