Chapter 6 - The Secret Diary
The massive front doors of the estate slammed shut, sealing Vivian out of their lives completely.
Edward turned to Clara, his dark eyes filled with a terrifying, obsessive affection.
"We are finally a family again," Edward whispered, kissing her gently on the forehead.
Clara forced a fragile smile, but her skin crawled with absolute revulsion.
She remembered the frantic warning in her diary stating that Edward wanted her dead.
"I want to see Noah right now," Clara demanded, needing to distance herself from her supposed husband.
"Of course, he is playing in the nursery upstairs," Edward agreed smoothly.
Clara hurried up the grand staircase, her mind racing with desperate plans to escape the heavily guarded mansion.
She opened the door to the nursery and found Noah sitting quietly on the colorful rug.
He was deeply focused on drawing a picture with a red crayon.
"Mommy!" Noah cheered, dropping his crayon and running into her arms.
Clara hugged the little boy fiercely, feeling an overwhelming surge of true maternal love.
She looked over his small shoulder and noticed the drawing he had left on the floor.
She gently pulled away from Noah and picked up the crinkled piece of paper.
The drawing depicted a massive house completely engulfed in bright red and orange flames.
In the center of the drawing, a large man was forcefully pushing a crying woman directly into the fire.
Clara’s breath hitched painfully in her throat as she studied the crude, terrifying details.
"Noah, honey, who is the scary man in this picture?" Clara asked, her voice trembling.
Noah pointed a tiny finger directly at the large stick figure drawn with dark black hair.
"That is Daddy," Noah answered innocently.
"Daddy pushed Mommy into the hot fire because she yelled at him."
Clara felt the room spin violently around her.
Her three-year-old son had actually witnessed his own father attempt to murder his mother.
Suddenly, the nursery door clicked shut, and the heavy deadbolt locked from the outside.
Clara rushed to the door and rattled the brass handle frantically, but it would not budge.
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Edward's cold, calm voice echoed through the internal intercom speaker mounted on the wall.
"I know you read the diary, Clara, and I cannot let you leave this house ever again."
