Chapter 2 - THE WAGNER ESTATE
The Wagner estate sat on fifty acres of private forest near the shore of Lake Michigan. For three years, the forty-room manor had been nothing more than a quiet, cavernous museum dedicated to Rebecca’s memory. Dust covers had stayed on the furniture in the west wing, and the silence had been broken only by the ticking of grandfather clocks and the steady rain against the high windows.
That silence vanished at two in the morning when two black SUVs pulled up to the grand front entrance.
Mrs. Gable, the estate’s long-serving housekeeper, stood at the open front doors, her face showing a mix of shock and concern as Charles stepped out of the vehicle, followed by four tiny girls clutching their worn gray rabbits.
"Mr. Wagner..." Mrs. Gable whispered, covering her mouth with a hand. "Are these...?"
"Prepare the guest suite in the main wing," Charles said, carrying two small canvas bags that contained everything the girls owned. "The ones near my study. Have the kitchen prepare warm milk, vegetable broth, and soft bread. Call Dr. Evans for a private wellness check at dawn."
The four girls stood in the grand marble foyer, looking up at the soaring vaulted ceilings and the winding twin staircases. They clung to each other in a tight, protective knot, their eyes wide with terror at the sheer size of the house.
"It's too big," whispered the second girl, the one holding the rabbit with the missing eye. "Where do we sleep?"
"Wherever you feel safe," Charles said gently.
He led them upstairs to the master guest suite—a warm room with a stone fireplace, plush cream carpets, and two king-sized beds. But when Charles turned around after setting down their bags, he saw that the four girls had gathered all the throw pillows and blankets from both beds and constructed a small, tight nest on the floor in the corner behind an armchair.
They piled into the tiny space together, their small bodies pressed against one another like litters of frightened animals.
"We stay together," the lead girl stated firm, her small jaw set. "If you separate us, we don't eat."
Charles knelt six feet away from their pillow fort. "Nobody is separating you. What are your names?"
The girls hesitated. Then the lead girl spoke. "I'm Maya. I'm the oldest by four minutes. This is Chloe," she pointed to the girl with the missing-eyed rabbit. "This is Lily," she indicated the girl with the stitched paw. "And this is Ava." Ava was the smallest, holding the rabbit with the torn stomach, hiding her face behind Maya’s shoulder.
"It is very nice to meet you, Maya, Chloe, Lily, and Ava," Charles said quietly. "My name is Charles. In this house, you don't have to hide behind armchairs. But if you want to sleep right there tonight, that is completely fine."
He stood up, walked to the doorway, and turned off the overhead lights, leaving only a soft, warm reading lamp glowing near the hearth.
"I will be sitting right outside this door in the hallway," Charles added. "If you need anything—water, light, or just to talk—you only have to call my name."
Charles sat in a high-backed wing chair in the dimly lit corridor all through the night. He didn't sleep. He sat with his laptop open on his knees, reading through the initial background investigation Harrison’s team had assembled on the girls' father, Richard Vance.
Richard had been Charles's former chief research scientist at Wagner Biotech five years ago—a brilliant geneticist who had suddenly resigned without explanation to pursue independent medical research in isolated facilities up north. Six months ago, Richard and his wife had perished in a suspicious car crash on an icy mountain road, leaving the four quadruplets in the legal care of Richard's estranged, debt-ridden brother, Arthur.
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As Charles scrolled through the legal documents, a red flag caught his attention. Richard Vance’s personal research accounts hadn't been closed after his death. They were actively transferring encrypted data to a private server registered under an offshore shell corporation based in Geneva.
Charles closed the laptop, his dark eyes narrowing in the quiet hallway. The girls weren't just victims of an greedy uncle. They were the key to something far larger.
