I bought an antique mirror at a Newport flea market, but my reflection stopped moving and wrote "Save me" in blood—uncovering my cousin's $18M old-money crime.
👉 Previous Decision: You chose Option B – Hide the mirror in Marcus’s off-grid conservation laboratory overnight.
Marcus’s lab was a maze of antique equipment and humming machines, tucked away in a converted boathouse far from the Newport waterfront. The air smelled of old paper and ozone.
We carefully set the mirror on a workbench, its reflection still showing the frozen, terrified face. “The legal injunction gives them twenty-four hours to produce a warrant for *this specific location*,” Marcus said, adjusting a lamp. “We have time.”
He aimed a powerful infrared scanner at the mahogany backing. On his monitor, the complex wood grain shimmered.
“Look here,” he pointed, zooming in. “The dried blood on the glass isn’t just ‘Save me.’ There are micro-letters, almost invisible to the naked eye, woven into the larger script. It spells: ‘Behind the oak veneer.’”
My eyes traced the phantom message on the glass. Marcus then ran his gloved hand along the ornate brass corner brackets of the frame. He found a tiny, almost imperceptible pressure latch.
“Clever,” he muttered, applying gentle pressure. With a soft click, a section of the backing sprang open, revealing a hidden compartment.
Inside, nestled beneath a thin layer of protective velvet, lay a single, yellowed sheet of paper. It was an original 1954 handwritten codicil, signed elegantly by Genevieve Montclair herself.
Marcus flattened the document under a magnifying lamp. His fingers trembled slightly as he read the precise script. “It explicitly leaves the entirety of the Montclair Estate – all $18.5 million – to a public trust dedicated to historical preservation. Completely disinheriting Julian’s branch.”
The truth was laid bare, a seventy-year-old secret suddenly breathing in the quiet lab.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 6 to continue the story
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