Honeyed Lies

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

The message Amelia read that evening haunted her all night. Everytime she closed her eyes, the words kept reappearing.

If you want the truth about Alexander Hart's death... stop trusting the people inside your own house.

She had read it only once before it vanished, yet every word had burned itself into her memory, which still kept her thinking. Who had sent that message?... And why delete it immediately afterwards?... Those questions had followed her into the early hours of the morning, stealing whatever little sleep she might have found. As dawn broke over the Hart Estate, Amelia woke up from a sleep she couldn't even have. She walked out with sunken eyes and stood on the balcony outside her bedroom, her body heavy with exhaustion. The gardens below were still littered with the white flowers that were used during the funeral. She watched as workers quietly dismantled the tents that were used during the funeral while the rest of all the luxury vehicles disappeared through the Hart gates. This house had been filled with a lot of mourners. But today, it felt haunted. This house felt haunted by silence and haunted by secrets, secrets she couldn't put her hands on or explain. She wanted to find them all out, especially what killed her father. A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Amelia?" the housekeeper called gently. "Mrs. Hart asked if you would join her for breakfast."

Amelia hesitated. "Uhmm… Tell her I'll be there."

The housekeeper closed the door gently. She didn't feel hungry, but if someone inside this house was hiding something, avoiding them would certainly not uncover the truth.

---

The dining room looked exactly as she remembered. It seemed her father didn't change anything after she was gone after all. A long mahogany table that stretched wide across the room, it was so polished until it reflected the crystal chandelier overhead. Victoria sat at one end, with a cup of untouched tea before her. She looked exhausted. When Amelia entered, she offered a weak smile. "I'm glad you came."

Amelia took a seat opposite her. The food was placed before them accordingly, as well as their plates and cutleries but neither of the women reached out for the food. Finally, Victoria broke the silence. "Your father had always believed you'd come home one day."

Amelia lowered her gaze slightly in guilt. "I only came home because he died."

Victoria winced. "I know."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Victoria slid a small velvet box across the table. "He wanted you to have this."

Amelia frowned. "What is that?"

"I don't know." "It was locked away in his study. He told me... if by any chance anything ever happened to him, it belonged to you."

Amelia slowly opened the box. Inside lay an old silver key. That was it, nothing else. No note, no explanation. Just a key. She looked up at Victoria.

"Did he ever tell you what it opens?"

Victoria shook her head. "No. And I never asked."

Amelia studied the key carefully, turning it over carefully in her palm. Her father had never done anything without a reason or purpose. If he'd left this for her… That means it mattered. It meant something… Something important enough to hide.

---

After breakfast, Amelia walked through the mansion alone. Each hallway carried different memories. Every portrait reminded her of happier days, when she was actually happy. As she walked through the hallway, she eventually stopped outside her father's study. The heavy wooden door was slightly open. She stepped inside. The room smelled faintly of leather and cedarwood. Books lined the walls from the floor to ceiling. His desk remained exactly as he'd left it, exactly how she remembered leaving it. A pen rested beside an unfinished document. His reading glasses lay near an open notebook. For a painful second, Amelia imagined him walking back through that door.

"Princess," he'd say with that familiar smile. But the room remained empty. She took a slow breath and began searching the drawers, cabinets, shelves. But nothing seemed unusual, until she noticed a framed family photograph hanging slightly crooked on the wall. Her father had hated crooked frames. She lifted it carefully. Behind it was a small metal safe. Her heartbeat quickened. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the silver key. "It can't be..."

The key slid smoothly into the lock. Click. The safe door opened. Inside the safe was a thick brown envelope with no inscription or headings written in front. Her hands trembled as she opened it. The first page contained financial records she didn't understand or recognize. The second was a set of listed names. Some were familiar names of powerful businessmen, politicians and investors. The final page held only one sentence, handwritten by her father. If you're reading this, then I failed to stop them. Trust no one until you know the whole truth. A chill ran down Amelia's spine. "Stop who?"

Before she could read further, voices echoed loudly from the hallway. Amelia froze. The footsteps grew closer, it was heading right towards her fathers study. She quickly returned everything back to the safe, locked it, and straightened the picture frame. She slipped behind the tall bookshelf pressing herself against the wall. The study door opened with a thud. Two men in expensive suits entered without noticing her hidden behind the bookshelf. "I told you to make sure that every document disappeared," one of them hissed.

"We searched the office." "Then search again."

"If anyone finds those files before us, we're finished." The man's voice cracked on the last word.

Amelia covered her mouth, barely daring to breathe. One wrong move and everything her father had left behind would be destroyed. The men continued speaking in hushed voices while rifling through pages and opening drawers. As quickly as they came, they left with the door clicked shut behind them. Only after their footsteps faded did Amelia step out from her hiding place. Her father's death had never been about a simple business rivalry. Someone was desperate to bury the truth. She looked down at the envelope in her hands. Since returning home, this was the first time Amelia felt fear settle deep inside her. She had never felt this kind of fear. But, standing in her father's study with so many deep secrets in her hands. Not only did she fear for her life. But, she feared that whoever had murdered Alexander Hart might soon realize that his daughter was following the trail he had left behind. And if they did… She might become their next target.