Whisper Of The Vault

Geraldine hadn't slept.

The attic's damp air still clung to her skin as she stared at the old letter lying on the dining table. The letter from her mother now felt like a ghost's breath—gentle, knowing, but chilling all the same. Her fingers traced the inked phrase again:

Follow the roses.

The morning sun bled through the drapes as Reena clinked her spoon noisily against her cereal bowl. Lovia hummed a made-up tune, her little hands swinging her legs under the table.

Geraldine forced a smile, but her mind wasn't in that room.

"Mom?" Reena asked, chewing slowly. "Why did that boy at school call Daddy… 'the Devil'?"

Geraldine froze.

Tracy, pouring juice nearby, stopped mid-pour. The silence sliced deep.

"What exactly did he say, baby?" Geraldine asked calmly.

Reena shifted. "He said Daddy was part of something called… Domin-something. That he makes people disappear. That's why my teacher got replaced so fast."

Lovia giggled. "Maybe Daddy's magic."

"No, sweet girl," Geraldine murmured. "Magic doesn't make people vanish. Monsters do."

After dropping the girls off, Geraldine made a detour. The Donovan Archives—an off-site property once used by Bekett's late uncle for "document preservation." She still had access, a fact Bekett must've overlooked.

She stepped into the cold chamber, flicking on the lights. Metal shelves stretched from wall to wall, filled with boxes labeled in Donovan code.

Her fingers moved instinctively—decoding Bekett's system:

C-7 meant Confidential, Section 7.

V.R. stood for Vault-Related.

R-15: Rosenwald, the name of her mother's family estate.

There.

She found a folder marked R-15 Blue Roses: Dominion Maps.

Inside: an old blueprint.

The Rosenwald greenhouses.

And under it, a hand-sketched map that led to something underground—beneath the east wing of her childhood home.

She gasped.

The roses weren't just metaphors. They were literal.

Her mother had hidden the path to the Blue Vault beneath the roses they used to prune every spring.

She returned home and paced.

Lachlan was already waiting for her in the study, scrolling through encrypted documents on his tablet. He looked up as she entered.

"I found the vault," she whispered.

His eyebrows raised. "Where?"

"Under my mother's old estate. Rosenwald. It's buried beneath the greenhouse. She left me a map."

He stood. "We have to leave tonight."

"No," she said. "Not until I know what we're up against."

Lachlan hesitated, then slid a file across the table. It was thick, sealed, and stamped with an emblem she didn't recognize.

"What's this?"

He met her eyes. "It's everything I have on Dominion. Names. Codes. Targets. Including your husband."

Hours later, while the children napped and Tracy watched over them, Geraldine opened the file alone in her bedroom.

Her hands trembled.

Inside were black-and-white surveillance photos. Bekett standing in meetings. Bekett shaking hands with military contractors. Bekett signing off on something labeled "Initiative Reclamation: Rosenwald."

There were pictures of her father too—before the accident. One showed him talking to a younger man in a military suit.

Lachlan Valez's father.

Geraldine's breath caught.

The next few pages were transcripts. A hidden recorder had picked up a conversation between Bekett and another man.

"If she ever finds out, you're done."

"She won't. Her mother took the secrets to the grave."

"You're playing with fire, Donovan."

"Then I'll burn the entire forest before I let her light a match."

Geraldine slammed the file shut, tears blurring her vision.

Her husband hadn't just lied. He'd killed to keep that lie breathing.

Later that evening, she called Lachlan into the hallway just beyond her bedroom. "We go to Rosenwald. Tonight."

He nodded once.

"And Lachlan?" she added, her voice like broken glass. "You lie to me, and I won't hesitate to end you like I will him."

He smirked. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

They moved fast.

Tracy stayed behind with the children under heavy security. Geraldine and Lachlan dressed in black, blending into night.

Rosenwald was a shadowed memory—her mother's estate long abandoned after her supposed "stroke." The gate creaked when they pushed through. Weeds had overtaken the once-groomed garden, and the greenhouse glass was shattered in places.

Geraldine walked straight to the rose beds. Her mother's map had been clear: the oldest bush held the key.

She dropped to her knees, fingers brushing through damp soil until—click.

A metal hinge.

They uncovered a hidden hatch, rusted and groaning as Lachlan pried it open.

A ladder descended into darkness.

Geraldine went first.

At the bottom, a narrow corridor stretched out—lit by motion-activated lights. Along the walls were symbols she recognized from her mother's journals—ancient runes, flowers, and eyes.

They reached a vault door.

No handle. Only a fingerprint scanner.

Geraldine pressed her hand against it.

Nothing.

Lachlan stepped up. "Try again. You're her daughter. Maybe it needs a pulse."

Geraldine closed her eyes, pressed her palm again with purpose, willing it to work.

Click.

The vault hissed and swung open.

Inside was no treasure.

Just files. Walls and walls of them.

Labeled:

Dominion Operation: Marionette

Project Veil

Operation: Legacy Poison

Subject 017: Donovan, Geraldine

Subject 002: Donovan, Bekett

Project Eden: Reena/Lovia

Geraldine stepped back, shaken.

"My children…" she whispered.

Lachlan reached for one of the folders. "Your husband didn't just marry you for power. He bred with you—for access. Dominion's future rests in Reena and Lovia. They're not just heirs. They're programmed legacies."

Geraldine's heart shattered in her chest.

"They're going to use my daughters to carry on the curse."

Lachlan looked her in the eyes. "Unless we burn it all down first."