Alexander’s jet landed shortly after midnight.
He ignored the waiting car and drove himself home.
The estate gates stood open.
That was wrong.
The Cole property operated under one of the most advanced private security systems Alexander’s company had ever designed.
The gates did not remain open accidentally.
He entered the house expecting chaos.
Instead, everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
Rebecca was gone.
So was her overnight bag.
The security supervisor, Martin Ellis, was found unconscious inside the monitoring room.
He was breathing.
Paramedics later determined he had been sedated.
Alexander ran upstairs.
Henry was still in bed.
Emily, the overnight housekeeper, sat beside him.
She explained she had found him sleeping unusually deeply and called emergency services after Martin failed to answer his radio.
Alexander touched Henry’s forehead.
“Buddy?”
Henry opened his eyes slowly.
“Dad?”
Alexander nearly collapsed with relief.
He pulled his son against his chest.
“I’m here.”
Henry clung to him.
Then he whispered, “She said you weren’t coming back.”
Alexander closed his eyes.
“Rebecca?”
Henry nodded.
Emergency physicians took blood samples.
Alexander demanded toxicology testing.
Dr. Reeves arrived at the house twenty minutes later.
He looked confused when Alexander showed him the medicine cup.
“I never prescribed this.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
The cup contained only residue.
Not enough for immediate identification.
Alexander looked at him.
“Rebecca told me you approved it.”
Reeves went pale.
“I didn’t.”
Henry watched the adults from the bed.
Then he said quietly, “She has bigger bottles.”
Everyone turned.
Alexander sat beside him.
“Where?”
Henry hesitated.
Rebecca had warned him never to enter her room.
She said bad children who touched her things were sent away.
Alexander’s anger sharpened.
“Henry, you’re not in trouble.”
Henry pointed toward the third floor.
Rebecca’s bedroom was locked.
Alexander broke the door open himself.
At first, they found nothing unusual.
Clothes.
Books.
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