Chapter 4 - THE GHOST IN THE BASEMENT
"Sarah?" I choked out, my voice cracking into a pathetic whisper.
My knees felt weak.
The phone slipped from my trembling fingers, hitting the concrete floor with a sharp crack.
The screen flickered once.
Then died.
Pitch blackness swallowed us whole.
Only the dim sliver of light from the inner room remained, casting long, twisted shadows across the stone walls.
"Ethan, stay back," Sarah's voice trembled in the dark.
It was real.
Not a trick of my mind.
Not grief playing cruel games with my sanity.
It was her voice.
Softer, weaker, but unmistakably hers.
"She's coming back," Sarah whispered urgently, grabbing my arm with cold, bony fingers.
"Who? Margaret?" I demanded, my rage finally overriding my shock.
"Margaret isn't just a housekeeper, Ethan," Sarah said, pulling me toward the open iron door.
"She owns this property."
"She owned it long before we bought it."
"She rents it out to wealthy families under different LLCs, plays the loyal servant, and then..."
Sarah choked back a sob.
"...and then she steals the mothers and breaks the children."
My mind raced, trying to piece together the nightmare.
"Why? Why would she do this?"
"Money, control, and something much darker," Sarah whispered, pushing me inside the hidden room.
It was a surveillance hub.
Dozens of high-definition monitors lined the walls, glowing with a soft green luminescence.
Each screen showed a different room in my house.
The living room.
The kitchen.
The nursery upstairs.
And right there on the center monitor...
I saw Lena.
She was standing in the living room, holding Nico and Noah tightly against her chest.
And towering over her was Margaret.
Holding a silver-barreled revolver.
"Lena!" I yelled instinctively toward the dead screen.
"We have to get out of here," I told Sarah, turning back toward the stairs.
"There's no way out that way," Sarah shook her head, her eyes wide with terror in the green glow.
"Margaret locked the bulkhead from the outside."
"The only exit is through the old drainage tunnel behind this room."
"It leads out to the forest behind the estate."
"Move!" I grabbed Sarah's hand, feeling the feather-light weight of her emaciated frame.
How long had Margaret kept her down here?
Three years?
Since the "car crash"?
My blood boiled with a lethal fury.
Margaret had stolen my wife.
She had poisoned my children.
And now she was holding Lena and my boys hostage.
We stumbled through the narrow drainage pipe, the cold water soaking through my designer shoes.
The air grew fresher with every step.
Up ahead, a rusted iron grate blocked the tunnel exit, moonlight streaming through the metal bars.
I threw my shoulder against the grate once.
Twice.
On the third try, the rusted hinges snapped with a loud screech.
We tumbled out into the wet autumn grass behind the mansion.
The crisp night air hit my face.
I helped Sarah to her feet, hiding her behind a thick cluster of oak trees.
"Stay here," I panted, checking my pockets.
Nothing.
No phone.
No weapon.
Just my bare hands and an unquenchable thirst for vengeance.
I crept back toward the rear French doors of the mansion.
They were unlocked.
Margaret had always been arrogant about her security.
She never expected anyone to escape the basement.
I slipped inside into the dark hallway.
The house was dead silent.
I crept toward the living room.
The doorway was draped in shadows.
I peeked around the corner.
Lena was kneeling on the floor.
Nico and Noah were crying softly in her lap.
And Margaret stood over them, the revolver leveled directly at Lena's forehead.
"You ruined everything, girl," Margaret sneered, her voice dripping with venom.
"Mr. Caldwell was supposed to be in Geneva for three days."
"We had plenty of time to relocate the boys."
"Why did you have to interfere?"
Lena looked up, tears streaming down her face, but her jaw was set with fierce defiance.
"Because they are innocent children, Margaret," Lena spat back.
"You're a monster."
"And your time is up."
Margaret's finger tightened on the trigger.
"Maybe so," Margaret smiled coldly.
"But you'll be dead before he ever finds his way out of the cellar."
May you like
I didn't wait another second.
I lunged from the shadows, flying across the living room like a missile.
