The Empty Frame On The Floor

The basement felt like the bottom of the ocean. The pressure in the air was so heavy it was hard to pull oxygen into my lungs.

I stood holding the sapphire pendant, the warped, fused clasp cutting into my thumb.

Vanessa was pressed flat against the industrial washing machines. She looked like a trapped animal. The arrogant woman who had ordered me to throw away Luca’s mother’s portrait just a few hours ago was completely gone.

Luca didn’t move. He stared at her, the horrific reality of the fused clasp sinking into his bones.

Isabella hadn’t lost the necklace in the river.

Someone had ripped it from her throat before she died.

“Who gave this to you?” Luca asked. His voice was no longer flat; it was a terrifying, low vibration that rattled the metal shelves around us.

“I told you, I had it made!” Vanessa shrieked, though her voice cracked with panic. “The jeweler must have messed up the clasp! It’s just a cheap latch!”

“It’s platinum,” I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Vanessa whipped her head toward me, her eyes filled with murder. “Shut your mouth, you stupid little maid!”

“Emma is right,” Luca said, taking a slow step toward his fiancée. “Platinum doesn’t bend like that by accident. It requires immense force. The kind of force that would leave a bruise on a woman’s neck.”

He stopped inches from her.

“When the coroner examined Isabella’s body, he noted a severe ligature mark on the back of her neck. He assumed it was from the seatbelt during the crash.”

Luca leaned in closer.

“But it wasn’t the seatbelt, was it, Vanessa?”

“I wasn’t there!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t even know her, Luca! I swear on my life, I didn’t know your sister!”

Suddenly, the heavy metal door at the top of the basement stairs creaked open.

Footsteps echoed down the wooden steps. Fast, light footsteps.

We all turned.

A small figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs, clutching a worn-out stuffed bear. He was wearing blue pajamas with little yellow stars.

Leo.

Luca’s six-year-old nephew.

My heart broke. He shouldn’t be down here. He should be in bed, fast asleep, far away from the darkness consuming his family.

“Uncle Luca?” Leo’s voice was small, trembling.

Instantly, the terrifying mafia boss vanished. Luca’s posture softened, his hands opening as he rushed over and knelt in front of the boy on the concrete floor.

“Leo,” Luca said gently, keeping his body positioned to block the boy’s view of Vanessa. “What are you doing out of bed, buddy? It’s late.”

Leo rubbed his eyes with a small fist.

“The music upstairs stopped,” the boy murmured. “And everyone is yelling. I got scared.”

“I’m sorry, Leo. The party is over. I’ll take you back up to your room right now.”

Luca reached out to lift the boy, but Leo took a step back.

He wasn’t looking at Luca.

He was looking past Luca’s shoulder. He was looking directly at Vanessa.

For a moment, Leo just stared at her. Then, his small face contorted in a mix of confusion and deep, primal fear. He dropped his stuffed bear onto the dirty concrete floor and scurried around Luca, hiding behind my legs.

He grabbed the fabric of my black uniform skirt with both hands, pressing his face into my apron.

I instinctively put my good hand on his back, rubbing small, soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

Luca stood up, his eyes darting between me and his nephew.

“Leo?” Luca asked softly. “What’s wrong?”

Leo peeked out from behind my skirt. He pointed a trembling little finger at Vanessa.

“The star lady,” Leo whispered.

The basement went completely dead silent.

Vanessa’s breath hitched. She took a step backward, hitting the washing machine hard enough to make it rattle.

“What did you say?” Luca asked, his voice barely a breath.

Leo looked up at me, seeking permission. I nodded encouragingly, though my heart was pounding out of my chest.

“The star lady,” Leo repeated, his voice a little louder. “From the night Mommy went to sleep in the water.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Leo had been in the car.

He was three years old when the accident happened, strapped into his car seat in the back. He had survived the crash because the car hadn't fully submerged on his side, and a passing truck driver had pulled him from the wreckage before the vehicle sank.

The police psychologists had said Leo was too young to remember the trauma. They said his brain had blocked it out.

They were wrong.

“Leo,” Luca said, dropping back down to his knees. His hands were shaking. “What star lady?”

Leo let go of my skirt. He reached into the small pocket of his pajama top.

He pulled out a folded piece of construction paper. It was wrinkled and worn, like it had been folded and unfolded a hundred times.

He held it out to Luca.

“I drew her,” Leo said. “But Daniel told me never to show you. He said it would make you too sad.”

My head snapped up.

Daniel. Luca’s head of security. The man who was currently upstairs, supposed to be guarding the doors. Why would Daniel tell a traumatized child to hide a drawing from his uncle?

Luca took the paper.

He slowly unfolded it.

I looked over his shoulder.

It was a child’s drawing in heavy crayon. It showed a black car upside down near blue scribbles that represented the river.

But standing next to the upside-down car was a stick figure of a woman.

She had yellow hair.

And on her right wrist, drawn in bright purple crayon, was a massive, jagged star.

Luca stared at the drawing. Then, slowly, with the terrible inevitability of a nightmare, he stood up and turned to Vanessa.

Vanessa was hyperventilating, her hands desperately trying to cover her right arm.

But I had seen it. Every time she wore a sleeveless gown. Every time she reached for a glass of champagne.

On the inside of Vanessa Bellini’s right wrist was a small, faded tattoo of a star.

“You were there,” Luca said. The words weren't a question. They were an execution sentence.

“I didn’t do it!” Vanessa screamed, abandoning all pretense. “I didn’t run her off the road, Luca! I swear to God, I just followed her!”

“You followed her,” Luca repeated, stepping toward her. “You followed my sister to the bridge. You watched her crash. And then you climbed down to the wreckage while she was bleeding to death…”

He pointed to the heavy sapphire pendant still clutched in my hand.

“And you ripped our mother’s necklace off her throat while her three-year-old son watched.”

Vanessa fell to her knees on the concrete, sobbing hysterically.

“I had to!” she wailed. “I had to get it back! It wasn’t a necklace, Luca! You don’t understand what’s inside it!”

I froze.

I looked down at the heavy sapphire in my hand.

What was inside it?

Before Luca could demand an answer, a deafening sound echoed from above us.

Gunfire.

Automatic gunfire, tearing through the main floor of the mansion.

Screams erupted from the remaining guests upstairs. The heavy thud of bodies hitting the floor vibrated through the basement ceiling.

Luca didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Leo, hauling the boy into his arms, and shoved me toward the back corner of the laundry room, behind the massive iron water heater.

“Stay down,” he ordered me, pulling a matte black pistol from a holster concealed beneath his tuxedo jacket.

He turned back toward the stairs.

But Vanessa wasn’t looking at the ceiling. She was looking at the metal basement door.

She wasn’t crying anymore. She was smiling.

“They’re not here for the guests, Luca,” Vanessa said, wiping the tears from her cheeks as the gunfire above stopped.

The basement door clicked open.

Heavy boots began marching down the wooden steps.

Vanessa stood up, smoothing the front of her red dress.