She was sure that if she handled this in an organized way, it would go down better with Ms. Rossi.
First on the list was the fact Nina had been supposed to go to school.
Second was her refusal to leave the room.
Thirdly were some ideas on what could be done—a visit to a psychologist to determine the root cause, perhaps also a meeting with her schoolteachers in case Nina was experiencing any bullying or other problems.
Armed with the list as guidance, Cassie hoped that the conversation would be productive.
All the same, she felt paralyzed by nerves when, in the late afternoon, she heard the front door click and rattle, and knew that Ms. Rossi had arrived home.
Cassie rushed downstairs, relieved to see that Venetia had arrived home with her mother. Ms. Rossi must have collected her from an after-school activity. She’d been concerned about the younger girl, because it was now well after five p.m.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted Ms. Rossi. “Hello, Venetia.”
Venetia nodded in reply, and Cassie thought she looked pale and miserable.
To Cassie’s frustration, Maurice Smithers hurried into the house behind them. Clearly there was still work to be done, and that meant she’d have to wait.
As Ms. Rossi and her assistant headed to the office, Venetia trailed up the stairs.
“Did you have sports today?” Cassie asked, as she followed her.
“I sat in the library and did homework,” Venetia told her.
“All afternoon?”
Venetia nodded.
“You should have told me!” Cassie felt terrible that she’d had to stay at school the whole day, especially on a Saturday. Even if the driver had been busy, she could have fetched Venetia from school, and the young girl could have done her work in comfort at home.
Ms. Rossi might be angry at her for not having used her initiative to ask if she could fetch her daughter, and that thought filled Cassie with apprehension.
“You’d better get changed before suppertime,” she told Venetia.
“I am not hungry,” Venetia said.
Cassie stared at her, stupefied.
“You’re not? But you didn’t have breakfast.”
She remembered that Ms. Rossi had said Venetia would be able to buy food at school, so perhaps she’d had a big lunch.
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat?”
Venetia nodded.
“I am going to lie on my bed and read now,” she said.
“Well, all right.”
Cassie left the room and closed the door. She was feeling increasingly unsettled by the way the children were behaving, and worried that this behavior had somehow been triggered by her presence in the house.
Seeing that it was close to six o’clock, she hurried downstairs and was reassured to see that Nina, in her slippers and dressing gown, had come out of the hidden room and was sitting at the kitchen counter.
Footsteps and voices from the study told her that Maurice was on his way out again. A moment later, Ms. Rossi joined them.
The cook placed a steaming tray of chicken, vegetables, and polenta on the countertop.
“If you will excuse me, I am going to take a plate into my office. I have to finish off some work before going out to attend a launch,” Ms. Rossi said.
She dished some food onto a plate, turned, and left the kitchen.
Cassie decided to seize the moment. She couldn’t wait until Ms. Rossi returned, which might well be very late.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she told Nina.
Leaving the kitchen, she hurried after the businesswoman, following the delicious aroma of food down the corridor.
Before Ms. Rossi could close her office door, Cassie caught up with her.
“Please, I need to speak to you,” she said. “It’s urgent.”
Ms. Rossi paused. Then she gave a small nod.
“All right,” she said. “Come in.”
She placed the plate of food on the desk, but didn’t invite Cassie to sit down.
“Ms. Rossi, I don’t know if you are aware that Nina didn’t go to school today,” she said.
She was so nervous her voice sounded high and shrill, but at least she’d gotten the words out.
Ms. Rossi’s frown deepened.
“Of course she did. On early mornings, one of the teachers gives her a ride to school.”
“I think you’ll find, if you check, that she didn’t go,” Cassie said, standing her ground.
Ms. Rossi raised her eyebrows.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Then, with a sigh, she added, “You had better take a seat.”
She took the plate of food and sat in her imposing leather chair, while Cassie perched across from her.
“I found her at home this morning.” Cassie struggled to find the right words. Whether Ms. Rossi was aware or not, it was difficult to tell a mother that her daughter had serious psychological issues.
“At home?”
Ms. Rossi sliced into the chicken breast and ate a piece. The skin was so crispy Cassie could hear it crackling under the knife. The rich smell of gravy filled the room.
“There’s this little annex, behind the downstairs cloakroom. The mirror opens into it.”
“Yes, I know that place. I am not sure why it is there; whether the previous owners intended to enlarge the cloakroom or whether they might even have used it as a secret room, or panic room.”
The businesswoman ate another forkful of chicken while Cassie continued.
“I found Nina in there. She was sitting on the floor and talking to an old, broken doll.”
Now Ms. Rossi’s eyebrows rose. “She was in there?”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense. Was she trapped in there? No, she could not have been, because that door does not lock. Why did you not take her out and send her to school immediately?”
Cassie shrugged, wishing now that she’d been firmer with Nina and acted the way Ms. Rossi had expected her to.
“The door was partway open. But she refused to leave and I didn’t want to force her, as I wasn’t sure why she was there in the first place.”
Ms. Rossi nodded thoughtfully as she chewed her chicken.
She finished her mouthful and then put her fork down deliberately.
