Previously…

Kelly learned she had a half-sister, Phoebe, sharing the same father, Matthew Wheland, who had died in a plane crash the previous year. While getting to know one another, Phoebe developed an attraction to Keaton, who was secretly planning to propose to Kelly. Meanwhile, Phoebe continued struggling with grief over her father’s death, suffering invasive thoughts about his plane crash. Concerned about her emotional state, Keaton suggested he and Kelly accompany Phoebe to Santa Barbara, where she hoped to resume treatment with her stepfather, psychiatrist Dr. Julian Vale. With devastating wildfires sweeping through Los Angeles, the three headed north toward the secluded Seacliff Manor, unaware of the danger awaiting them.

_______________________

Halloween Night

A thick blanket of fog rolled in from the Pacific, swallowing the rugged coastline north of Santa Barbara. Far below the towering cliffs, enormous waves crashed against jagged rocks, their thunderous roar carrying through the darkness. The wind howled across an isolated stretch of undeveloped land, bending the wild grasses and rattling the branches of several gnarled cypress trees.

At the edge of the property stood an old wooden dock, an unusual structure extending from a rocky bluff high above the ocean. Weathered by decades of salt air and storms, its narrow planks creaked beneath the relentless wind. Beyond its rotting guardrails was a sheer drop to the churning black water hundreds of feet below.

A woman’s terrified scream suddenly pierced the night.

“Help! Somebody, please!”

Kelly dragged herself along the dock, her fingers desperately gripping the rough wooden planks. Her clothes were torn and muddy, her hair tangled around her face. One ankle was twisted at an unnatural angle, and every attempt to move sent excruciating pain shooting up her leg.

She glanced over her shoulder, her face contorted with terror. “Phoebe! Please, stop!”

Phoebe emerged from the fog several yards behind her. Her long hair whipped around her face in the wind, and her pale features seemed almost ghostly in the darkness. She wore a flowing white nightgown beneath a dark cardigan, its hem dragging through the damp grass as she stepped onto the dock.

In her right hand, she carried a large kitchen knife.

Kelly tried to pull herself farther away, but her injured ankle caught between two uneven planks. She cried out in agony, struggling to free it. “Oh, god!”

Phoebe continued toward her, moving slowly and deliberately.

“Phoebe, please!” Kelly sobbed. “It’s me!”

The younger woman’s expression was eerily blank, her eyes fixed on Kelly as though she were looking at a complete stranger.

Kelly managed to free her ankle and dragged herself another few feet. The dock shuddered beneath a particularly violent gust of wind, sending a shower of loose splinters into the darkness. Ahead of her, the wooden platform ended abruptly.

There was nowhere left to go.

Kelly turned onto her back, trembling as she stared at Phoebe approaching through the swirling fog.

“Listen to me,” she pleaded. “Whatever you think I’ve done, whatever somebody’s told you, it’s not true!”

Phoebe stopped several feet away. For a moment, she seemed confused. Her gaze drifted toward the ocean, then back to Kelly.

“Phoebe?” Kelly whispered.

The knife hung loosely at Phoebe’s side.

Kelly reached toward her. “Please. Let me help you.”

Phoebe looked down at the outstretched hand. Something seemed to stir behind her vacant expression.

Then her fingers tightened around the knife as she lifted it into the air. A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the coastline, briefly revealing the two women at the end of the dock, surrounded by the black expanse of the Pacific.

Kelly recoiled, raising an arm to protect herself. “PHOEBE, NO!”

Phoebe lunged toward her.

_______________________

Six Days Earlier

Keaton Hartley’s car traveled north along the Pacific Coast Highway, leaving the devastation of Los Angeles behind. Smoke still clouded the sky, and occasional emergency vehicles passed in the opposite direction, heading toward the wildfires that continued to burn in the hills.

At forty-six, Keaton was an attractive, slightly nerdy-looking man with dark, tousled hair and thick-framed glasses. Beside him sat Kelly Kahoano, a beautiful forty-year-old woman of mixed Hawaiian ancestry, with warm features, dark hair, and a naturally athletic figure.

In the back seat, Phoebe Wheland stared silently through the rear window at the orange glow on the distant horizon. Thirty-two, with long auburn hair, a pretty, full face, and a curvaceous figure, Phoebe had an attractive, girl-next-door quality that contrasted with Kelly’s more athletic appearance.

As they traveled farther north, the thick smoke gradually thinned, although a faint gray haze still hung over the coastline. By the time they reached Santa Barbara, the worst of it was behind them.

They continued north before turning onto a narrow, winding road that climbed steadily into the coastal hills. The houses gradually became fewer and farther between until there were none at all. Dense groves of eucalyptus and cypress trees lined the pavement, their branches casting long shadows across the road.

Finally, Keaton slowed as they approached a pair of enormous wrought-iron gates set between weathered stone pillars. An ornate metal plaque bore the name Seacliff Manor.

Kelly leaned forward to get a better look. “Seacliff Manor?” she repeated.  “Sounds like something out of an old horror movie.”

Keaton smiled as the gates slowly swung open. “Well, it certainly has the entrance for one.”

They followed a long, curving driveway through heavily wooded grounds. Weeds had begun creeping through cracks in the pavement, and several of the elaborate stone planters lining the drive stood empty.

As the trees finally gave way, Seacliff Manor came into view. The enormous, castle-like mansion was built of dark gray stone, with steeply pitched roofs, narrow windows, and imposing towers. Perched on an isolated bluff high above the Pacific, it looked more like an ancient European fortress than the home of a wealthy Santa Barbara psychiatrist.

Kelly stared through the windshield. “How long has your stepfather lived here?”

Phoebe smiled faintly. “He’s lived here for years. He bought it long before he married my mother.”

“Well, he certainly has interesting taste,” Kelly said.

“I guess he’s always loved old architecture.”

Keaton pulled into the circular drive in front of the mansion and switched off the engine. “Home sweet home,” he announced.

The three climbed out of the car. A cool ocean breeze swept across the grounds, carrying the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocks far below.

Kelly glanced around the secluded property. There wasn’t another house in sight. “Honestly, this place gives me the creeps,” she said.

“Come on, Kel,” Keaton replied. “It’s just a house.”

“Yeah, well, let’s just make sure we’re home before Halloween.”

Phoebe glanced toward the entrance. “It’s really not that bad once you get inside.”

Kelly wasn’t convinced. While Keaton opened the trunk to retrieve their luggage, she wandered toward a stone terrace that extended along the side of the mansion. Beyond a low stone wall, the property dropped sharply toward the ocean, offering a spectacular view of the rugged coastline.

Despite her uneasiness about the house, Kelly couldn’t resist taking a closer look. “Wow,” she murmured, approaching the overlook. “Okay, I’ll give him this much. The view is incredible.”

“Kelly, be careful over there,” Keaton called from beside the car.

“I’m fine!” She stepped onto a narrow stone walkway leading down to the terrace. Several of the paving stones had shifted over the years, leaving the steps uneven and cracked. Her attention remained fixed on the ocean, and she failed to notice a raised edge partially concealed by fallen leaves. Her foot caught against it. Suddenly, her ankle twisted beneath her, and she lost her balance.

“Ahhh!” Kelly stumbled forward and fell hard onto the stone walkway.

“Kelly!” Keaton shouted.

An excruciating pain shot through her ankle as she tried instinctively to get up. “Ow, ow, ow!”

Keaton dropped the suitcase he’d been carrying and hurried toward her, Phoebe close behind. “What happened?” he demanded, kneeling beside her.

“I tripped!” Kelly gasped, clutching her ankle. “Oh, Christ, it hurts!”

“Don’t move,” Keaton warned.

Phoebe crouched beside her. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay!” Kelly cried. “I think I broke something!”

Keaton studied her rapidly swelling ankle. “Can you move it?”

Kelly attempted to flex her foot, then cried out sharply. “No! Don’t touch it!”

“Okay, okay. Just take it easy.”

Phoebe looked toward the mansion. “I’ll go get my stepfather,” she said, then scrambled to her feet and hurried toward the massive front doors.

Kelly grimaced, fighting back tears as she stared at her swollen ankle. “Great,” she muttered bitterly. “We’ve been here five minutes, and I’ve already managed to cripple myself.”

Keaton managed a sympathetic smile.

Kelly looked toward the mansion again. She hadn’t particularly wanted to visit Seacliff Manor in the first place, and now it appeared she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

_______________________

A short while later, Kelly lay on an enormous four-poster bed in one of Seacliff Manor’s guest bedrooms, her injured foot propped up on several pillows. Although the room was beautifully furnished with antiques, the wallpaper had begun peeling near the ceiling, and a faint water stain spread across one corner of the plaster.

Seated at the foot of the bed was Phoebe’s stepfather, Dr. Julian Vale, a distinguished, handsome man of sixty with graying dark hair, piercing eyes, and sharply defined features. Dressed in a cashmere sweater and tailored trousers, he possessed the quiet authority of a successful psychiatrist.

“Well, the good news is I don’t think anything’s broken,” Julian announced, examining Kelly’s swollen ankle. “It’s a nasty sprain, though. You’ll need to stay off it for several days.”

“Ugh, why is this happening to me?” Kelly groaned.

Standing nearby was Phoebe’s mother, Charlotte Vale, an attractive fifty-six-year-old former actress with delicate features and a subdued, almost dreamy manner. She spoke softly, rarely changing her expression, and had an unsettling habit of making observations that seemed perfectly ordinary to her.

“That’s unfortunate,” Charlotte remarked quietly. “You haven’t even unpacked.”

Kelly glanced at her. “Yeah. Not exactly how I planned to spend the next couple of days.”

“At least you didn’t fall over the cliff,” Charlotte said offhandedly. “That would have been much worse.”

An awkward silence followed.

“Mother,” Phoebe said.

Charlotte looked at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Julian continued wrapping Kelly’s ankle as the bedroom door opened and an older woman dressed in a severe black housekeeper’s uniform entered carrying a silver tray. Tall and thin, with gray hair pulled tightly into a bun, Helga had a stern face that seemed incapable of smiling.

“Your tea, madam,” she said in a heavy German accent, setting the tray beside Kelly.

“Thank you,” Kelly replied.

Julian finished securing the bandage and stood. “There we are. I think our patient should get some rest.”

Keaton leaned down and kissed Kelly’s forehead. “I’ll check on you in a little while.”

“Okay.”

Charlotte gestured toward an old-fashioned bellpull beside the bed. “Just ring if you need anything. Helga will hear it. She’s like a cat. She hears most things.”

With that, the others departed, leaving Kelly alone.

She reached for her phone, only to discover she had barely any reception. “Wonderful,” she muttered.

A sudden creak made her glance toward the door, which stood slightly ajar.

“Hello?”

No answer.

Then the door slowly swung inward, revealing Helga standing motionless on the threshold with a folded blanket.

Kelly nearly jumped out of her skin. “Jesus! You scared me!”

“Mrs. Vale thought you would like an extra blanket, madam,” Helga said and placed it at the foot of the bed, then turned to leave. The door closed behind her.

Kelly stared after the woman before sinking back against her pillows. “God, this place is creepy,” she whispered.

_______________________

Later that evening, Keaton stood on one of Seacliff Manor’s stone balconies, his cell phone pressed to his ear. Below him, the Pacific stretched into the darkness, the distant crash of waves barely audible over the wind.

“Listen, Stormy, we’ve had a little complication up here,” he said. “Kelly took a fall when we arrived and sprained her ankle pretty badly.”

“Oh, shit. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. But the doctor’s ordered her to stay off it for a couple of days, so it looks like we won’t be getting back to L.A. until then.”

“That’s fine,” Stormy replied. “We just got home from the hospital ourselves. Jane and Caroline are finally settled in.”

“That’s great! How are they doing?”

“Good. Tired, but good. It’s nice having everybody home.”

“I’ll bet.” Keaton smiled. “Well, congratulations again, man.”

“Thanks. And don’t worry about things here. We’ve got a few days before we need to get everybody together for the table read.”

“Perfect. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Sounds good. And tell Kelly I hope she feels better.”

“Will do. Give my best to Jane and the baby.”

“Thanks. Talk soon.”

Keaton ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. He lingered on the balcony for a moment, looking out at the dark ocean before heading back inside where he found Phoebe approaching.

“Keaton, I just wanted to say thank you for doing this. I know you’ve got a million things going on with the movie.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re going to be family soon, remember.”

Phoebe fell into step beside him. “Do you really think my anxiety over the plane crash has something to do with this place?”

“I don’t know for sure. But something’s been bothering you ever since Matthew died, and maybe coming back here will help you figure it out.”

“I hope so. Sometimes I feel like I’m driving everybody crazy.”

“Well, you haven’t driven me crazy yet.”

Phoebe smiled, her eyes lingering on his face. Before she could say anything, a voice interrupted them.

“Dinner is served.”

They turned to find Helga standing a few feet behind them, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

Keaton jumped slightly. “Jesus. Where’d you come from?”

“The dining room, sir.”

Phoebe suppressed a smile. “We should bring a tray up for Kelly.”

“I’ll see to it, Miss Wheland,” Helga replied before turning and disappearing around the corner.

Keaton shook his head. “Does that woman ever make any noise?”

“You’ll get used to her,” Phoebe said and slipped her hand lightly through his arm.

“Come on. I’ll show you where the dining room is.”

Keaton allowed her to lead him down the corridor, unaware of the faintly pleased expression that crossed Phoebe’s face.

_______________________

The formal dining room at Seacliff Manor was nearly as imposing as the rest of the house. A long mahogany table occupied the center of the room, illuminated by an enormous crystal chandelier, several of whose bulbs had burned out. Heavy draperies covered the windows, while antique tapestries adorned the dark-paneled walls, their once-rich colors faded with age.

At one end of the table sat Julian, with Charlotte to his right. Keaton, Phoebe, and Kelly occupied the remaining places, while Helga silently moved between them, serving dinner from an ornate silver platter.

Kelly sat with her injured foot resting on a cushioned stool beneath the table.

“I’m glad you decided to join us,” Charlotte remarked, cutting into her dinner.

“Well, I couldn’t stand the thought of eating alone in that bedroom,” Kelly replied. “Keaton was nice enough to carry me downstairs.”

“It’s a shame the elevator’s broken,” Charlotte said.

“Elevator?” Keaton asked.

“Yes. It’s been out of order for months.”

“I thought you were having someone come out to fix it,” Phoebe remarked.

“We were,” Julian replied. “Unfortunately, the repairs turned out to be rather extensive.”

“And expensive,” Charlotte added in her usual flat tone.

Julian glanced at his wife.

“Perhaps we could use the dumbwaiter to get Kelly back upstairs later,” Charlotte suggested.

Kelly stopped chewing. “The dumbwaiter?”

Charlotte looked at her. “It’s quite large. We used it to move a dead dog once.”

Phoebe lowered her fork. “Mom.”

“What? He was a very big dog.”

Keaton glanced at Kelly, who wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

Julian calmly changed the subject. “I noticed the smoke was still quite heavy toward Los Angeles. How is everyone back there?”

“Pretty shaken up,” Keaton replied. “My mother and stepfather lost their house in Beverly Hills. The fire practically gutted the place.”

“Your mother is Alex Reynolds, isn’t that right?” Charlotte asked.

“That’s right.”

“Oh, how awful.” She paused. “She had such beautiful things. I hope she wasn’t home when it happened.”

“No, thankfully.”

“Well, that’s fortunate. It’s much easier to replace things than people. Although sometimes I suppose it depends on the people.”

An awkward silence followed.

“At least everybody made it out safely,” Kelly offered.

Kelly turned to Charlotte. “You know, I’ve seen some of your movies. Whatever made you give up acting?”

Charlotte shrugged slightly. “I suppose I’d had enough of Hollywood. Then when I met Julian, and then Phoebe and I moved into this house, leaving always felt like a chore, so I never considered going back to that life.”

“Well, I thought you were terrific in The Mansion of the Damned,” Keaton remarked.

“Thank you,” Charlotte replied quietly. “That was a long time ago.”

Kelly glanced around the enormous dining room, taking in the dark paneling, heavy draperies, and gloomy portraits. “Actually, this place kind of reminds me of that movie,” she said with a grin. “All you need is a thunderstorm and somebody creeping around with a candlestick.”

Phoebe laughed. “She’s got a point, Mom.”

Charlotte looked around the room, considering the comparison. “I suppose it does.”

She returned to her dinner, leaving Kelly to wonder whether Phoebe’s mother had a sense of humor at all.

Helga approached to refill Charlotte’s wineglass, but Charlotte waved her away. “You know, Kelly,” she said, turning toward her guest, “it was quite a surprise learning Matthew had another daughter. All those years, and not a word to anyone. Men do have a remarkable talent for keeping secrets.”

Kelly set down her fork. “Believe me, it was a surprise to me, too.”

“I imagine.”

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Kelly began. “How did you find out about me?”

“The will.”

Kelly frowned. “The will?”

“Yes. Matthew’s will.”

“But I’ve seen his will. There wasn’t anything in it about another family. Or another daughter.”

“Oh, that was the old one,” Charlotte replied. “He had a newer will drawn up.”

Kelly looked toward Phoebe. “He did?”

Phoebe nodded. “That’s how we found out. After Julian and Mom told me, I couldn’t believe it. All those years, I had a sister I never knew existed.”

“Half-sister,” Charlotte corrected quietly.

Phoebe glanced at her. “Mom.”

“Well, you are. There’s no point confusing the bloodlines.”

Julian set down his wineglass. “Matthew apparently revised his will shortly before his death. Neither Charlotte nor Phoebe knew anything about it.”

“Which is why we were so surprised when we learned about you,” Charlotte added.

Kelly frowned. “But what does any of that have to do with me?”

“Well, it seems Matthew wanted to make sure both his daughters were provided for,” Julian explained.

Phoebe looked at her stepfather. “What do you mean?”

Julian leaned forward. “There’s something rather significant in Matthew’s new will. Something that concerns both of you.”

Kelly and Phoebe exchanged puzzled glances, waiting for him to explain.

“Well, Matthew owned a rather substantial piece of coastal property not far from here,” Julian explained.

“Yes, I know about that,” Kelly replied. “He saved a soldier’s life during the Gulf War, and the man left him the land as a thank-you.”

“That’s right,” Julian said. “It’s several hundred acres of some of the most valuable undeveloped coastline in Santa Barbara County. The locals call it Cypress Point.”

“A lawyer came to see me last year about that property,” Kelly continued. “He said that since I was Matthew’s only living heir, the land would pass to me.”

Charlotte glanced toward Phoebe. “Except you’re not his only living heir.”

Kelly looked at her half-sister. “Oh, of course. I mean, I know that now.”

Julian nodded. “According to the revised will, Matthew left the property to both of you. Equal shares.”

Phoebe stared at him. “Wait a minute. He left me half of that land?”

“That’s correct.”

“But why didn’t anybody tell me about it?”

“Well, darling, it’s only been a little over a year since Matthew died,” Charlotte replied. “And there was an awful lot of red tape to sort through. These things take time.”

Julian smiled reassuringly. “The important thing is that Matthew wanted both of you taken care of. And with what that property is worth today, I’d say he certainly accomplished that.”

Kelly exchanged an astonished look with Phoebe. “So, we’re actually co-owners?” she asked.

“Fifty-fifty,” Julian confirmed. “And I think you’ll both be quite pleased when you learn what developers are willing to pay for it.”

“Just how much are we talking about?” Kelly asked.

“Millions,” Julian replied. “Potentially tens of millions, depending on what someone wants to build there.”

Charlotte looked up from her plate. “That would certainly solve a lot of problems.”

Julian glanced at her.

“For the girls, of course,” she added quietly.

“Naturally,” Julian agreed, then raised his wineglass. “To Matthew Wheland. He certainly knew how to provide for his daughters. You’re both very wealthy young women thanks to that land.”

Kelly and Phoebe smiled and raised their glasses. “To Matthew,” Kelly said.

“To Dad,” Phoebe added quietly.

As the others drank, Helga stood motionless near the dining room entrance, watching the two women with a cold, unreadable expression.

_______________________

After dinner, the group retired to the drawing room, a spacious but dimly lit room furnished with antique sofas, leather armchairs, and a massive stone fireplace. A fire crackled in the hearth, providing some warmth against the chill that had settled over the house.

Keaton helped Kelly into a comfortable armchair and carefully propped her injured foot on an ottoman. Across the room, Julian poured brandy from a crystal decanter while Charlotte settled onto the sofa beside Phoebe.

“So,” Julian began, handing Keaton a glass. “What prompted the two of you to accompany Phoebe back to Santa Barbara? Not that we aren’t delighted to have you, of course.”

Keaton took a seat beside Kelly. “Well, Phoebe’s been having a pretty rough time lately. A few days ago, we were watching television when a news report came on about a plane crash. She became so upset she could barely breathe. It was almost like a panic attack, but worse than any I’ve ever seen.”

“That sounds rather serious,” Julian remarked.

“It was,” Kelly agreed. “We’ve both been pretty worried about her.”

Julian turned toward his stepdaughter. “Phoebe, we were making some good progress in our sessions before you left for Los Angeles. I was disappointed when you decided to stop.”

“I know,” Phoebe replied quietly. “I just thought getting away might help.”

“Of course. And meeting your sister was important, too.” He smiled reassuringly. “But I do think we should have a session or two while you’re here. There’s clearly something about Matthew’s death you haven’t been able to come to terms with.”

Phoebe shifted uncomfortably. “I suppose.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Keaton said. “Maybe talking it through will help you understand why the crash keeps bothering you so much.”

Kelly nodded. “I agree. You’ve been carrying this around for over a year, Phoebe. You shouldn’t have to keep feeling this way.”

Phoebe glanced between them. “All right. I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

“Excellent,” Julian replied. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Phoebe said.

Julian glanced at his watch. “Well, it’s getting late. Perhaps we should all turn in.”

Keaton rose and helped Kelly to her feet, supporting her as they made their way toward the door. Phoebe followed them into the hallway.

_______________________

Upstairs, Kelly sat in bed propped against the pillows, her injured ankle resting on a cushion. Keaton stood nearby, unbuttoning his shirt as he prepared for bed.

As he tossed the shirt over a chair, something on the antique dresser caught his attention. “Hey, what’s this?”

He picked up a thick document bound in a blue folder and began leafing through the pages.

“It’s Matthew’s will.”

Kelly looked up. “What?”

“There’s a copy of his will sitting here. Did somebody leave this for us?”

“I guess so. Maybe Dr. Vale wanted us to have proof about the property being divided between Phoebe and me.”

Keaton glanced through the document. “Huh. Guess that makes sense.” He set it back on the dresser, then turned toward her. “Does it bother you?”

“What?”

“Having to share the land with Phoebe. I mean, you thought it was all yours.”

Kelly shrugged. “Of course not. She’s Matthew’s daughter too. Besides, from what Julian was saying, half that property is worth more money than I’ll ever know what to do with.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Keaton kicked off his shoes and began unfastening his jeans. When he glanced toward the bed, he caught Kelly watching him with a decidedly appreciative expression. He grinned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He approached the bed, leaning over her with his hands planted on either side of her hips. “Something I can help you with?”

Kelly smiled and pulled him down for a kiss. Keaton returned it eagerly, his hand brushing through her dark hair as she reached for the waistband of his jeans.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” he said with a laugh. “Doesn’t your ankle hurt?”

“Terribly.”

“Then maybe we should take it easy.”

Kelly slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “Keaton, it’s not my ankle that wants you right now.”

He laughed. “Well, when you put it that way…”

She kissed him again, more insistently this time, and he carefully climbed onto the bed beside her, making sure not to disturb her injured foot.

“Just be gentle,” she whispered.

“Always.”

Kelly giggled as he kissed her neck, then drew him into another passionate embrace.

Neither noticed the tiny hole in the wall behind the dresser. On the other side, concealed in the darkness of a neighboring bedroom, someone stood watching through the hole.

_______________________

The following morning, Phoebe sat across from Dr. Vale in his private office at Seacliff Manor. The room was lined with bookshelves, with a large mahogany desk positioned beneath a tall window overlooking the ocean. A small digital recorder sat on the table between them.

“How have you been sleeping?” Julian asked, making a note in the folder resting on his lap.

“Sleeping is the only time I can shut it off,” she told him.  “It’s when I’m awake that I still have those thoughts.”

“About Matthew?”

Phoebe nodded. “About the plane crash. I keep imagining what those last few minutes must have been like for him. It’s almost like I’m going through it. The panic, the dread, the terror as I plummet to the earth.”

Julian studied her. “And have you considered that perhaps there’s a reason you can’t stop thinking about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, sometimes the mind holds on to things we aren’t quite ready to acknowledge. Things we may have seen or heard without realizing their significance.”

Phoebe frowned. “You think there’s something wrong with me?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Julian replied gently. “But your reaction to the news report in Los Angeles was rather extreme, wasn’t it?”

“I guess. I just couldn’t stop thinking about my father. About how frightened he must have been.”

“And these thoughts come to you often?”

“Sometimes. Mostly when something reminds me of the crash.”

Julian made another note. “And when they do, do you find it difficult to distinguish between what you’re imagining and what’s actually happening?”

Phoebe looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Keaton described you as being almost completely overwhelmed. As though you were experiencing the crash yourself.”

“I felt like I was.”

“Of course.” Julian nodded sympathetically. “But these episodes can become more severe if we don’t address them.”

Phoebe shifted uneasily. “You make it sound like I’m getting worse.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think so.”

Julian studied her for a moment before writing something else in her file. “Well, that’s what concerns me, Phoebe. Sometimes we’re the last to recognize when we’re losing control.”

She stared at him, visibly unsettled.

“But don’t worry,” he continued reassuringly. “We’ll work through this together.”

Phoebe nodded, although she looked considerably less reassured than when she’d arrived.

As she glanced toward the window, Julian quietly checked that his recorder was still running.

“Now,” he said, “tell me about the last time you felt you couldn’t trust your own judgment.”

_______________________

Upstairs, Kelly sat propped against the pillows when Keaton emerged from the bathroom, brushing his teeth and carrying Matthew’s will in his other hand. He was shirtless, his lean but defined torso still glistening with water from his shower.

“Well, that was interesting,” he remarked through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“What was?”

“The shower. Water never got completely hot, and the pipes sounded like they were about to come through the walls.”

Kelly shrugged. “It’s an old house.”

“Apparently. Broken elevator, ancient plumbing, paint peeling all over the place. You’d think a guy like Dr. Vale could afford to fix some of this stuff.”

“Maybe he just likes the place the way it is.” She shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “God, my foot is really killing me today.”

Keaton disappeared into the bathroom to rinse his mouth, then returned and sat beside her, opening the document he’d been reading. “Hey, there’s something in Matthew’s will I want you to see.”

Kelly glanced over. “What?”

“This clause here.” He pointed to a paragraph near the bottom of the page. “It says that if either you or Phoebe dies before the property is sold, the surviving sister automatically inherits the other one’s share.”

Kelly frowned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning if something happens to Phoebe, you get everything. And if something happens to you, she gets everything.”

“Well, that’s a pleasant thought,” Kelly said.  “Let’s hope neither of us has to worry about inheriting the other’s half anytime soon.”

Keaton closed the folder, but his eyes lingered on it a moment longer before he set it aside. “Here, let me take a look at that ankle.”

He carefully removed Kelly’s sock, revealing that her foot was noticeably more swollen than the day before. “Jesus, Kelly. That doesn’t look good.”

“I told you it was hurting.”

Keaton gently examined the swelling. “I think you’d better stay put today. No more going up and down those stairs. And if it gets any worse, we’re taking you to a hospital.”

Kelly groaned. “So I’m a prisoner in this room now?”

“Just until the swelling goes down.”

She sank back against the pillows. “Wonderful. Trapped in Dracula’s castle with a bum ankle.”

Keaton leaned over and kissed her. “At least you’ve got me to keep you company.”

Kelly smiled and pulled him closer.

But as Keaton reached past her to adjust the pillow beneath her foot, his gaze returned to Matthew’s will lying on the bedside table. He couldn’t help thinking about the clause he’d discovered. If either sister died, the other would become an even wealthier woman than before.

And at Seacliff Manor, surrounded by people they barely knew, the thought was considerably less reassuring than it should have been.

_______________________

Charlotte descended the grand staircase, running her hand along the polished wooden banister. As she reached the bottom, the door to Julian’s office suddenly flew open. Phoebe hurried out, her face flushed and her eyes brimming with tears.

“Phoebe?” Charlotte called. “What’s wrong?”

But her daughter brushed past her without answering and rushed through a pair of French doors leading onto the enormous stone balcony overlooking the Pacific.

Charlotte watched her for a moment before following.

Outside, Phoebe stood gripping the railing, struggling to contain her tears. The ocean stretched endlessly beneath the cliffs, its waves crashing against the rocks far below.

“Darling?” Charlotte approached her. “What happened?”

Phoebe wiped her cheeks. “Nothing, Mom.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“It’s just… talking about Dad again. Julian keeps asking me to remember things, and it’s so hard.”

Charlotte stood beside her.

“I loved him so much,” Phoebe continued, her voice breaking. “I know he wasn’t perfect, but he was my father. And every time I start thinking I’m getting over losing him, it all comes rushing back.”

Charlotte rested a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Well, grief is a funny thing,” she said quietly. “You think you’ve gotten rid of it, and then there it is again. Like mold.”

Just then, the French doors opened and Keaton stepped onto the balcony.

“Oh, there you are,” he said to Charlotte. “Do you happen to have any ibuprofen around here? Kelly’s ankle is really bothering her today. I looked everywhere for Helga, but I couldn’t find her.”

Charlotte sighed. “That maid. She’s never around when you actually need her.”

“I can go into town and get some if—”

“No, no. We have plenty. I’ll bring some up to Kelly.” She gave Phoebe’s shoulder a final pat before heading inside.

Keaton watched her go, then turned toward Phoebe. It was only then that he noticed her tears. “Hey. What’s going on?”

Phoebe shook her head. “Nothing. I just had another session with Julian.”

“Didn’t go so well?”

“I don’t know anymore.” She wiped her eyes. “Every time I talk to him, I end up feeling worse.”

Keaton moved closer. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought coming back here would help. But now I’m starting to wonder if there’s something seriously wrong with me.”

“Phoebe, come on.”

“I’m serious, Keaton. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

He shook his head. “You’re not going crazy. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still grieving. That’s all.”

Phoebe looked at him helplessly, and Keaton pulled her into a comforting embrace.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly. “You’re going to get through this.”

Phoebe slipped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. She closed her eyes, taking comfort in his warmth and the reassuring strength of his arms. For a moment, her troubles seemed to disappear.

Keaton gently rubbed her back, unaware of how reluctant she was to let him go.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For being here.”

He smiled. “Anytime.”

Phoebe tightened her embrace just a little, wishing she could remain in his arms indefinitely.

_______________________

Upstairs, Kelly was resting in bed when a soft knock sounded at the door.

“Come in.”

Charlotte entered carrying a small bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water. “Keaton said your ankle was bothering you.”

“Oh, thank god,” Kelly said, sitting up. “It’s been killing me.”

Charlotte handed her the bottle and water, then walked to the window and peered outside. “You know, it’s rather surreal meeting you after all this time.”

Kelly swallowed the tablets and set the glass aside. “I guess it is, isn’t it?”

“When I first learned about your existence, I hated you.”

Kelly nearly choked on water as she swallowed the first pill.

Charlotte gave a small, humorless laugh. “Funny, isn’t it? Hating someone you’ve never even met.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t mean to upset anyone.”

“Oh, of course not.” Charlotte began absently wandering around the room. “It’s just that discovering Matthew had another daughter came as rather a shock. We’d always held him in such high regard, and suddenly there was this whole other life we knew nothing about. It rather spoiled the lovely image we’d had of him. Through no fault of your own, naturally.”

Kelly watched her, unsure how to respond.

“Matthew had his secrets,” Charlotte continued in her usual flat tone. “I suppose most men do.”

She paused beside the window.

“I’ve read quite a lot about you, actually. You went to live with your mother, a maid. You married Stormy Blackthorne, sold his baby to his mother, worked as a model in New York, and eventually became a talent agent.” She turned toward Kelly. “You’ve certainly managed to pull yourself up from rather meager beginnings.”

Kelly stiffened. “I’ve worked hard for everything I have.”

“I’m sure you have.” Charlotte sat down in a chair beside the bed, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “Which brings me to something I’ve been thinking about. Considering how little time you actually spent with Matthew, I think it would only be fair for you to turn your share of Cypress Point over to Phoebe.”

Kelly stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“Your half of the property. Phoebe was Matthew’s daughter her entire life. She grew up with him, loved him, depended on him. It seems rather unfair that someone who barely knew him should receive an equal share.”

Kelly was genuinely taken aback by the request. “Matthew was in my life for almost fifteen years. He left that land to both of us. That was his decision.”

“Yes. Well, Matthew wasn’t always known for making sensible decisions.”

Kelly studied the woman sitting across from her. Until now, she’d dismissed Charlotte’s peculiar remarks as harmless eccentricities. This was something else entirely.

“Look, I’m very happy that Phoebe and I have found each other,” Kelly said firmly. “Having my sister in my life means a lot to me. But I’m not going to give up my inheritance.”

Charlotte regarded her without expression. “Even though you didn’t even know him until you were a grown woman?”

“That’s not the point. He wanted me to have it, and I intend to honor that.”

For several seconds, Charlotte said nothing. Then she gave a slight nod. “Well. I suppose that’s settled, then.” She rose and smoothed the front of her blouse.

“Thank you for bringing the medicine,” Kelly said, still unsettled by the conversation.

“Of course.” Charlotte crossed toward the door, then paused. “It’s such a shame, really. Money has a terrible way of coming between people.”

Kelly frowned. “I don’t intend to let it come between Phoebe and me.”

“No,” Charlotte replied quietly. “I’m sure you don’t.” She stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

Kelly remained sitting against the pillows, staring at the door in disbelief. Whatever she’d expected from her visit to Seacliff Manor, being asked to surrender half of her inheritance certainly hadn’t been part of it.

_______________________

With Kelly resting upstairs, Phoebe offered to give Keaton a tour of Seacliff Manor. They made their way through a series of long corridors, passing rooms filled with antique furniture, dusty portraits, and elaborate woodwork that had clearly seen better days.

“How many rooms are in this place, anyway?” Keaton asked.

“Twenty-seven, I think. Not counting the servants’ quarters.”

“Jesus. What does Julian do with all of them?”

Phoebe laughed. “Mostly nothing. Half the rooms haven’t been used in years.”

She opened a pair of double doors, revealing an enormous sitting room with tall windows overlooking the ocean. Several pieces of furniture were covered in white sheets, and a large water stain discolored the ceiling.

“Wow,” Keaton remarked, stepping inside. “I’ll bet this was something back in its day.”

“I guess Julian used to have parties here all the time.”

“What happened?”

Phoebe shrugged. “I guess he just got tired of entertaining.”

Keaton noticed several rectangular patches on the walls where the wallpaper was considerably darker than the surrounding areas. “Looks like somebody took down a few paintings.”

“Oh, Julian sold some of his art collection recently. Mom said they needed the money for repairs.”

Keaton glanced up at the damaged ceiling. “Doesn’t look like they got very far.”

They continued into an adjoining corridor, where Phoebe slipped her arm through Keaton’s. “This place costs a fortune to maintain,” she explained. “I think Julian’s been having a harder time with it lately.”

They reached a small library near the rear of the house. Unlike the other rooms, it appeared to be used regularly, with books scattered across a desk and several folders stacked beside an old-fashioned brass lamp.

“Julian sometimes works in here when he doesn’t feel like using his office,” Phoebe explained.

Keaton wandered toward a bookcase, examining a collection of old Hollywood biographies. On two of the shelves were framed pictures of Charlotte’s old headshots.

As he turned, a document lying among the folders caught his eye. Cypress Point Property Valuation

He picked it up. “Hey, look at this.”

Phoebe approached him. “What is it?”

“An appraisal of that land you and Kelly inherited.”

He glanced at the first page, which contained several aerial photographs of the coastline and an estimate of the property’s value. “Holy shit.”

“What?”

“Look at these numbers.”

Phoebe peered over his shoulder, her eyes widening. “Are you serious?”

“Apparently. And this appraisal was commissioned by Julian months ago. But you only found out about the land last night.”

Phoebe considered this. “Maybe he was having it appraised while they were settling Matthew’s estate.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“May I help you?”

Keaton nearly dropped the folder. They turned to find Helga standing in the doorway, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

“Jesus Christ!” Keaton exclaimed. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“My apologies, sir.”

Phoebe smiled. “We’re just looking around, Helga.”

The housekeeper’s eyes moved from Keaton to the document in his hand. “I see.”

Keaton quickly returned the folder to the desk.

“Dr. Vale keeps important papers in this room,” Helga remarked. “He doesn’t care for people disturbing them.”

“Sorry,” Keaton replied. “We weren’t trying to snoop.”

Helga regarded him silently for a moment. “Of course not, sir.” She stepped aside to allow them through, but as Keaton passed, she spoke again. “Be careful in the west corridor. Some of the floorboards have become quite unsafe.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Keaton glanced back at her, but she had already turned toward the desk.

Once they were safely down the hallway, he shook his head. “I swear, that woman ought to have a bell around her neck.”

Phoebe laughed. “She’s always been like that.”

“Yeah, well, she’s going to give me a heart attack before we get out of here.”

Phoebe slipped her arm through his again and they headed toward the staircase.

Keaton glanced back once toward the library, still thinking about the appraisal he’d discovered.

Inside, Helga stood alone beside Julian’s desk. She looked down at the folder Keaton had been examining, then carefully straightened it. For a moment, she stared at the words Cypress Point on the cover. Then she closed the folder and returned it to its place.

_______________________

Back in his private study, Julian sat behind his desk, watching a recording of an earlier therapy session with Phoebe on his computer. The heavy drapes were drawn, and the only light came from a small desk lamp and the flickering screen.

In the recording, Phoebe sat across from him, visibly distressed as footage of a commercial airliner crashing played on a television beside her.

“Julian, please,” she begged, turning away. “I don’t want to watch this anymore.”

“Phoebe, look at the screen.”

“No! Why are you showing me this?”

“Because you need to confront what happened to Matthew!” Julian snapped.

“But that’s not even his plane!”

“That doesn’t matter. You need to understand what he experienced.” He picked up a newspaper article and held it toward her. “Listen to this. Survivors of another crash described the terror they felt in those final moments. Some were convinced they were going to die. Imagine what your father must have been thinking.”

Phoebe covered her ears. “Stop it! Please!”

“Phoebe!” Julian raised his voice. “You cannot spend the rest of your life running away from your feelings!”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she began sobbing uncontrollably. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because it’s necessary,” he replied sharply. “If you want to get better, you have to face these things.”

On the recording, Phoebe bent forward, struggling to catch her breath while Julian continued speaking.

“Look at me, Phoebe. You’re losing control again. This is exactly what concerns me.”

Julian paused the video, leaving the image of his distraught stepdaughter frozen on the screen. A soft knock interrupted him.

“Julian?” Charlotte entered the study, and he immediately closed the video window.

“What is it?”

She approached his desk, her expression characteristically unreadable. “Phoebe was very upset earlier. After your session.”

Julian leaned back in his chair. “Charlotte, we’ve discussed this. Emotional distress is sometimes part of therapy.”

Charlotte wandered toward the window, absently examining a crack in the plaster beside the curtain. “I don’t like it,” she said quietly.

Julian regarded her without speaking.

After a moment, she turned back toward him. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Julian’s expression hardened. For several seconds, he simply stared at his wife. “You know that’s not possible.”

_______________________

Keaton returned to the guest bedroom, where Kelly was sitting up in bed, looking visibly irritated.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

“Phoebe was showing me around the house. You wouldn’t believe some of the rooms in this place.”

“Well, while you were sightseeing, I had a very interesting conversation with Charlotte.”

Keaton sat beside her. “About what?”

“She asked me to give my share of Cypress Point to Phoebe.”

He stared at her. “She did what?”

“You heard me. Apparently, because Phoebe knew Matthew longer than I did, she’s more entitled to the land.”

“Jesus. She’s got some nerve.”

“Tell me about it.”

Keaton frowned. “You know, Phoebe showed me some of the older rooms downstairs. This place is practically falling apart. Julian’s been selling paintings to pay for repairs.”

“I thought psychiatrists are supposed to be rich.”

“I also found something else.” He told her about the appraisal Julian had commissioned months earlier.

Kelly shook her head. “Something’s not right here.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

“Keaton, I want to go home. As soon as my ankle’s better, we’re leaving.”

“Fine by me. Stormy’s already wondering when I’ll be back anyway.”

He leaned over to kiss her, but something behind the dresser caught his attention. A tiny spot of light was visible through the wallpaper. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of movement behind it.

“What’s wrong?” Kelly asked.

“Nothing.” Keaton squinted at the wall, then shrugged. “Probably just a crack in the plaster. This whole place is falling apart.”

“Well, there’s another reason to get out of here.”

Keaton laughed and turned back to her. “You don’t have to convince me.” He kissed her, dismissing the strange little opening without another thought.

_______________________

Two days later, Phoebe sat across from Julian in his private office, looking exhausted.

“I don’t understand why I keep feeling this way,” she said. “One minute I’m fine, and the next I’m so angry I can barely think.”

“Angry with whom?” Julian asked.

“I don’t know. Everybody, I guess.”

“Your sister?”

Phoebe looked up. “Kelly? No.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course. She’s my sister. I’ve loved getting to know her these last few months.”

Julian made a note in his file. “Sometimes the people we love are also the people we resent most.”

“Why would I resent her?”

“Well, consider the circumstances. She had a relationship with Matthew that you knew nothing about. She’s enjoyed a successful career, she’s financially comfortable, and now she’s inherited half of something you might reasonably have expected to receive yourself.”

“But Matthew left it to both of us.”

“Yes. And you’ve accepted that remarkably well.”

Phoebe frowned. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing?”

“Not at all. I’m simply concerned that you may be suppressing certain feelings.”

She looked away.

“And then there’s Keaton,” Julian continued.

Phoebe stiffened. “What about him?”

“You’re very fond of him, aren’t you?”

“He’s a good friend.”

“Is that all?”

Phoebe hesitated. “I suppose I have a little crush on him. But he’s with Kelly, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Julian, please. He was going to propose to her this weekend until he decided we needed to come here instead.”

“Have you ever wished you were in your sister’s place?”

Phoebe lowered her eyes. After a lengthy silence, she whispered, “I did something terrible.”

Julian waited.

“The other night, I went into the room next to theirs. There’s a little hole in the wall, behind the furniture.” Her cheeks reddened. “I watched them together. In bed.”

Julian studied her. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t help myself.”

“How did that make you feel?”

Phoebe began to cry. “I was jealous, okay? I wanted him to look at me the way he looks at her. I wanted him to make love to me the way he makes love to her.”

Julian leaned forward.

“You see, Phoebe? These are precisely the feelings we’ve been discussing. You love your sister, but perhaps some part of you believes she’s standing between you and the happiness you deserve. And perhaps you’ve begun to believe Kelly intends to take away the few things that are still yours.”

“No. Kelly hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

Phoebe opened her mouth, but no answer came.

“The people closest to us can hurt us most,” Julian continued. “It is important to recognize when you feel threatened. And to protect yourself.”

“Kelly wouldn’t hurt me,” Phoebe whispered.

Julian lowered his voice. “Tell me something. If Kelly tried to take away everything you loved, what would you do?”

Phoebe could only stare at him.

_______________________

On Halloween morning, Kelly and Keaton sat together in the drawing room, laughing over something he’d said about their disastrous trip. Kelly’s ankle was improving, and Keaton had finally convinced Stormy they’d return in time for the table read.

When Phoebe entered, their laughter stopped. “What?” she demanded.

Kelly glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

“You were talking about me.”

“No, we weren’t,” Keaton replied.

“Sure.” Phoebe folded her arms. “Everybody’s so careful about what they say around me now.”

“Phoebe, come sit down,” Kelly offered.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Talk to me like I’m crazy!” Phoebe snapped. “I’m not some helpless little girl!”

Kelly recoiled. “I never said you were.”

Phoebe looked between them, her anger giving way to embarrassment. “Forget it,” she muttered and hurried out.

Keaton rose as though to follow, but Kelly caught his wrist.

“What’s happening to her?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’m starting to wonder if those sessions with Julian are doing more harm than good.”

_______________________

By Halloween afternoon, Keaton’s patience with Seacliff Manor was wearing thin. He stood in the entrance hall, speaking into his phone.

“Stormy, I know. I told you we’d be back as soon as Kelly could travel.”

“The table read is today. We can’t keep putting everything on hold because you’re playing nursemaid up there.”

“I’m not playing nursemaid. She’s injured.”

“You know, this is exactly why I was wary of working with you again,” Stormy said, the irritation evident in his voice.

Keaton sighed. “Look, we’ll get back as soon as we can.”

He ended the call and went to find Kelly.

_______________________

A short while later, Charlotte entered the drawing room, where Kelly and Phoebe were seated together.

“You mentioned at dinner that you enjoyed my old movies, Kelly,” Charlotte remarked. “I thought you might like to see some of the things I’ve kept from those days.”

Kelly looked interested. “Oh, I’d love that.”

“Mom has an entire room full of memorabilia upstairs,” Phoebe explained. “Old costumes, photographs, movie posters. Even some props from The Mansion of the Damned.”

“Really? That sounds fantastic.”

“It’s upstairs in the west wing,” Charlotte said. “Most of those rooms haven’t been used in years.”

Kelly glanced at her injured ankle. “I’m not sure how well I’ll manage the stairs.”

“It’s only two flights,” Phoebe assured her. “I’ll help you.”

Just then, Keaton entered the room, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “Lenny, I understand. But I’m telling you, there’s nothing I can do about it from up here.”

He gave Kelly a distracted smile before turning away.

“Look, just give me a minute.” He disappeared into the hallway, still arguing into the phone with Sunset Studios’ head of makeup.

“He sounds busy.” Phoebe rose and offered Kelly her hand. “Come on. There’s a lot of stuff up there I think you’ll like.”

Kelly carefully got to her feet. “All right. But if I fall down another flight of stairs in this house, I’m suing somebody.”

Phoebe laughed and slipped an arm around her waist. Together, the sisters headed toward the staircase.

From the doorway, Julian watched the sisters disappear upstairs. Once they were gone, he approached his wife. “Are you quite certain about this?”

Charlotte glanced toward the staircase. “I want that land, Julian. I don’t want a dead daughter.”

“And you heard what Kelly said. She has no intention of giving up her share of Cypress Point.”

“Then perhaps we should offer to buy her out.”

“With what, Charlotte? We’re barely keeping this house from falling down around us. Then there are the mortgages, the tax liens.”

Charlotte looked away.

“If something happens to Kelly, Phoebe inherits the entire property,” Julian continued. “And given her increasingly fragile condition, she’ll hardly be in a position to manage an estate of that size.”

“You mean you’ll manage it for her.”

“Naturally. Someone has to protect her interests.”

Charlotte studied him. “And what happens to Phoebe? What happens to my daughter?”

“She’ll receive the care she needs.”

“In one of your psychiatric hospitals, I suppose.”

“If necessary.”

Charlotte stared toward the staircase again. “Sometimes I wish you’d simply let this house fall into the ocean.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Julian replied. “We’re much too close to saving it now.”

He turned and walked back toward his study, leaving Charlotte alone.

_______________________

Keaton had barely finished his call when Helga appeared beside the staircase.

“Mr. Hartley,” she said quietly. “Where are the young ladies?”

“Upstairs. Phoebe’s showing Kelly Mrs. Mrs. Vale’s film memorabilia.”

The housekeeper looked alarmed. “The west wing?”

“I guess so. Why?”

“You must bring them back down.”

Keaton frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Helga glanced toward the empty hallway. “Dr. Vale is not the man he pretends to be. Neither woman is safe in this house.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I hear Miss Wheland crying during his sessions. Afterward, he sits alone watching the recordings.”

Keaton just stared at her.

“I don’t know what he intends,” she continued, “but the locked drawer in his study may tell you.”

“Then why haven’t you said something?”

“Who would believe me?” She lowered her voice. “Come quickly.”

Before Keaton could answer, Charlotte appeared above them.

“Helga? I thought you were preparing dinner.”

“Yes, madam.” The housekeeper immediately moved away.

Charlotte regarded Keaton. “Everything all right?”

“Just fine,” he replied.

He waited until she disappeared down the corridor before following Helga toward Julian’s study.

_______________________

Upstairs, Phoebe led Kelly through a dimly lit corridor toward the older part of the mansion.

“God, this place goes on forever,” Kelly remarked.

Phoebe stopped and turned toward her sister. “Do you have any idea how frustrating it is being around you?”

Kelly frowned. “What?”

“Everything always seems to work out for you. You’ve got a successful career, a man who’s crazy about you, and now half of our father’s property. You just walk into my life, and suddenly you’ve got everything.”

“Phoebe, that’s not fair. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“No, you never have to ask, do you? Things just fall into your lap.”

Kelly stared at her, bewildered. “Is this about Cypress Point?”

Phoebe laughed bitterly. “It’s about a lot more than that.”

“Like what?”

“Keaton, for one thing.”

Kelly’s expression changed. “What does Keaton have to do with anything?”

“Nothing. Everything, I guess.”

Kelly frowned. “Are you okay?”

Phoebe laughed bitterly. “That’s what everybody keeps asking me. Do you know how tired I am of hearing that?”

“Well, you’ve been acting strangely.”

“Maybe because everybody’s treating me like I’m crazy!”

“Nobody thinks you’re crazy.”

“Julian does.”

Kelly shook her head. “I think Julian’s been making you feel worse instead of better.”

Phoebe’s expression changed. “So now you’re trying to turn me against him, too?”

“What? No!”

“He’s the only person who understands what’s happening to me!”

“Phoebe, please. Let’s go downstairs.”

Kelly moved toward the door, but Phoebe stepped in front of her.

“You want everything, don’t you? Cypress Point, our father’s love, Keaton…”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Julian says you’ve been manipulating me since we met.”

Kelly stared at her in disbelief. “He told you that?”

Phoebe’s breathing became erratic. “You think I’m stupid. You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing.”

“Phoebe, you’re frightening me.”

Kelly tried to move past her, but Phoebe caught her arm. “Don’t walk away from me!”

“Let go!”

Kelly pulled free, stumbling against a table. Her injured ankle twisted beneath her, sending an excruciating pain shooting up her leg. She caught herself against the wall, barely managing to remain standing.

Phoebe stared at her. “You’re pretending.”

“What?”

“You want everybody to feel sorry for you.”

“Phoebe, my ankle—”

“Stop lying!”

Kelly looked at her sister’s wild expression and felt a sudden surge of fear. She turned and limped toward the open doorway.

“Kelly!” Phoebe shouted.

Kelly hurried into the corridor as quickly as her injured foot would allow. “Leave me alone!”

Behind her, Phoebe followed.

_______________________

Downstairs, Keaton entered Julian’s study with Helga. The housekeeper produced a small key from her apron and unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk.

“I found this while cleaning,” she whispered. “But I haven’t looked through everything inside.”

Keaton watched her, realization dawning. “It was you who left the copy of the will in our room, wasn’t it?”

She didn’t answer, instead handing him a stack of papers from the drawer.

Keaton opened a folder labeled Phoebe Wheland Psychiatric Evaluations. He flipped through the pages, increasingly disturbed. “Violent tendencies? Paranoid delusions? What the hell?”

Helga connected a portable hard drive to Julian’s computer. “Watch.”

A recording appeared on the screen. Phoebe sat sobbing while Julian forced her to watch footage of an airplane crash.

“Stop it!” she cried. “Please!”

Keaton stared in disbelief. “What the—”

He watched Julian continue questioning her until she was nearly hysterical, then calmly describe her reaction as evidence of mental instability. Another recording showed Phoebe initially calm, only to become frightened as Julian suggested that her apparent improvement couldn’t be trusted.

“He’s doing this deliberately,” Keaton muttered.

Helga nodded. “It has been going on for more than a year. I used to hear her laughing in this house. Not anymore.”

Keaton searched the drawer again, discovering financial records, correspondence with developers, and appraisals of Cypress Point.

The Vales owed enormous sums of money. Another file concerned arrangements to manage Phoebe’s finances should she be declared incapable of doing so herself.

Then he found Matthew’s will, the survivorship clause highlighted in yellow. Beneath it were Julian’s handwritten notes about Phoebe’s growing hostility toward Kelly.

Keaton slowly lowered the pages. “Oh, my god. He’s trying to turn Phoebe against Kelly. If Kelly dies, Phoebe gets the entire property. Then Julian uses these reports to have her declared incapable of managing it and tries to get his hands on Cyprus Point.”

The housekeeper looked horrified.

“He’s been setting this up for a year,” Keaton continued.

“What about Mrs. Vale?”

“She already tried to get Kelly to give up her share,” he said. “She knows enough.”

Suddenly, a faint scream echoed through the house.

Keaton froze. “Kelly?”

Another scream followed. “KEATON! HELP ME!”

He dropped the remaining papers and raced from the study.

_______________________

Upstairs, Kelly stumbled along the dark service corridor, struggling to escape her sister.

“Phoebe, please! Leave me alone!” She glanced over her shoulder. Phoebe was still following her.

Kelly tried opening a nearby door, but it was locked. Another led to a small storage room with no other exit. She continued down the corridor, her injured ankle throbbing with every step.

Suddenly, Phoebe appeared at the opposite end. “Kelly! Why are you running away from me?”

“Because you’re scaring me!”

“You’re just like everybody else. You think there’s something wrong with me!”

“Phoebe, that’s not true!”

“LIAR!”

Phoebe lunged toward her, and Kelly ducked into a narrow passage leading to the servants’ staircase. She hurried down several steps before discovering that the lower landing was blocked by a locked iron gate. She turned and climbed back up, fighting against the pain.

At the top of the stairs, she spotted a small wooden door built into the wall.

The dumbwaiter.

She remembered Charlotte’s peculiar remark at dinner. We used it to move a dead dog once.

Kelly pulled open the door and looked inside. The compartment was just large enough.

Behind her, Phoebe’s footsteps grew louder.

Kelly awkwardly climbed inside, pulling her injured leg after her. She reached for the controls and pushed the lever downward. The dumbwaiter shuddered. For a moment, nothing happened. Then it began descending. Kelly nearly sobbed with relief.

Suddenly, a metallic shriek echoed through the shaft. The compartment jerked violently and stopped.

“Oh, god. No!” She tugged at the lever, but it wouldn’t move. “Come on! Please!”

Below her, she heard a door opening. Then Phoebe’s voice.

“Kelly?”

Kelly froze. A moment later, the lower dumbwaiter door opened, revealing the dimly lit kitchen. Phoebe stood on the other side. In her right hand was a large kitchen knife.

Kelly scrambled backward inside the cramped compartment. “Phoebe, please! It’s me!”

Phoebe stared at her.

“Listen to me! Whatever somebody’s told you, it’s not true!”

The younger woman’s expression was eerily blank.

“Phoebe?” Kelly reached toward her. “Please. Let me help you.”

For an instant, something seemed to stir behind Phoebe’s vacant expression. Then her fingers tightened around the knife.

A flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen.

“PHOEBE, NO!”

Phoebe lunged and Kelly screamed as the blade stopped inches from her chest. For a terrible moment, neither woman moved.

“Phoebe,” Kelly whispered, tears streaming down her face. “You’re my sister. I love you.”

Phoebe stared at her. Her hand began trembling violently. “Oh, my god,” she whispered. The knife suddenly slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the kitchen floor. “I was going to kill you.”

Kelly shrank back, unable to speak.

Phoebe stumbled away from the opening, horrified. “What’s happening to me?” She began sobbing uncontrollably. “Kelly, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

She reached toward the dumbwaiter.

Kelly flinched before she could stop herself.

Phoebe saw it and pulled her hand away. “You’re afraid of me.”

Kelly’s eyes filled with tears. “Phoebe, I…”

Neither woman knew what to say.

Suddenly, Keaton burst into the kitchen. “Kelly!” He stopped when he saw Phoebe standing beside the open dumbwaiter, the knife lying on the floor. “Jesus Christ!” He rushed toward the opening. “Kelly! Are you all right?”

“My ankle,” Kelly gasped. “I can’t get out.”

Keaton examined the compartment, then carefully helped her climb through the opening.

She cried out as her injured foot touched the floor.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, taking her into his arms. “I’ve got you.”

Phoebe stood several feet away, trembling.

Keaton glanced at the knife, then at her devastated expression. He knew exactly what had happened. And he knew who was responsible.

_______________________

A short while later, Kelly was seated in the drawing room with her injured ankle elevated, while Phoebe sat silently on the sofa beside her.

Keaton stormed down the hallway toward Julian’s study. “Vale! Where the hell are you?”

Charlotte appeared near the staircase. “Keaton? What’s happened?”

“Where’s Dr. Vale?”

“I don’t know.”

Keaton pushed past her and entered the study. The desk drawers stood open. Julian’s computer was gone, along with most of the files and recordings.

Helga appeared in the doorway. “He left a few minutes ago,” she said quietly. “I saw him drive away.”

“Damn it!” Keaton exclaimed.

Charlotte entered behind them. “What’s going on?”

Keaton rounded on her. “Your husband tried to make Phoebe kill Kelly!”

Charlotte stared at him. “Well,” she said quietly, “that wasn’t how he explained it to me.”

“You knew what he was doing.”

“I knew he intended to help us obtain the property. I wasn’t aware he’d become quite so ambitious.”

“Ambitious? He nearly got your daughter to murder her own sister!” Keaton held up the papers he’d taken from the study. “I’ve seen the recordings. The reports. The plans for Phoebe’s money.”

Charlotte sank into a chair, her composure cracking for an instant. “Julian said he could help her.”

“He made her worse on purpose.”

Charlotte looked down at her hands. “I told him I didn’t want anyone hurt.”

“And you let him go ahead anyway.”

She said nothing.

Keaton shook his head in disgust.

“I’m getting Kelly and Phoebe out of here. Tonight. And I’m taking this to the police.”

“Keaton—”

But he was already dashing out of the room.

_______________________

A short while later, Keaton’s car disappeared through the gates of Seacliff Manor, carrying Kelly and Phoebe toward Los Angeles.

Charlotte stood alone in the drawing room, staring into the dying fireplace.

Her phone rang and she glanced at the screen before answering. “Julian?”

“Have they gone?” came her husband’s voice.

“Yes. Kelly’s still alive. Phoebe nearly killed her, but she stopped. Everything’s gone wrong.”

“Not everything.”

“Keaton knows what you’ve been doing. He’s going to the police.”

“Then we’ll have to make other arrangements.”

Charlotte closed her eyes. “Julian, this has gone too far.”

“Charlotte, darling. Think about what we stand to lose.”

She looked around the enormous, decaying room. For several seconds, she remained silent.

Then, in her usual quiet voice, she asked: “What do you want me to do?”

_______________________

Next…

Brett finds himself at Carlo’s mercy. Yvette sets her sights on Jordan. Miranda changes course. The investigation into Lara’s disappearance lands the police at Suzanne’s door.