As they reach the top of the stairs, Neva sees that the landing goes in two different directions. One north wing, one south wing, she thinks.
‘We need to split up and search before our presence is discovered,’ Neva says. ‘I’ll try this side. You take the other.’
Michael nods but she can see he isn’t happy that they are parting.
Neva turns and walks away. As she reaches the first door, she glances back at the stairs and sees Michael at the door on the opposite side. She turns her attention away from him and back to her search. She listens at the first door, then opens it and goes inside. The room is a basic bedroom, and not as lavish as the rest of the house. It has very little in the way of personal possessions and has two single beds inside, both neatly made. It reminds her of a barracks. Something twitches in Neva’s brain. A recollection that this corridor and these rooms are used by other employees of Annalise. But she doesn’t know where the memory comes from.
She tries the next room, finding it equally empty, then she’s plummeted into a memory that was once suppressed somewhere deep inside her.
‘Coming ready or not!’
Neva staggers against the door frame of the second door.
‘I know where you’re hiding, Fae!’
The little girl giggles as she runs from room to room. ‘I’ll find you!’ she yells.
And Neva knows who this is as the memory comes flooding back. Fleur!
Neva pulls her mind back to the present. She looks back up the corridor towards the stairs as though she expects that same little girl to come running towards her now.
I was here, she thinks. Neva had half-believed her similarity to Annalise had just been a coincidence. But her own memories confirm that Annalise is her mother.
Shaken, she continues down the corridor, passing several rooms without checking them. She reaches the end of the corridor and the final door on the right as though drawn there.
When she tries the door, Neva finds that it is locked. She is confused for a second as she sees the two little girls in her mind’s eye running along the corridor again, yelping in excitement. She tugs at the handle again. Like an automaton, Neva takes the lock-pick set she carries from her pocket. She prods the lock until she hears that satisfying click and then she opens the door.