Chapter 2 - The Woman in the Dark
I turned so fast the pry bar scraped across the wood.
“What did you just say?”
Mother’s face changed. Not much. A tiny tightening around the mouth. A flash of calculation in her eyes.
“I said you don’t know what’s under there.”
“That’s not what you said.”
Diane stepped in. “Daniel, everyone’s exhausted. Amelia’s been missing eight days. Noah hasn’t slept. You haven’t slept. Don’t turn a loose board into—”
Another knock came from below.
Then a fourth.
I stopped listening.
I put one foot beside the panel, gripped the bar with both hands, and forced it downward. The hidden hatch rose two inches. Dust floated into the chandelier light.
Mei backed away with one hand over her mouth.
Noah whispered, “Mom?”
My heart stopped.
The white fabric slid loose from the crack.
It wasn’t rug lining.
It was part of a cream-colored dress.
Amelia had worn a cream dress the night she disappeared.
I tore the bar free, dropped it beside me, and hooked my fingers under the raised edge. The hatch was heavier than it looked, but fear gave me strength. I lifted it high enough for the hinges to take over.
A narrow storage compartment opened beneath us.
There was a woman curled on the floor.
Long light-brown hair tangled around her face. Dust on her cheek. One bare foot. A torn cream dress. Her wrists were red from rope or tape that was no longer there.
“Amelia.”
Her eyes opened.
Noah screamed, “Mommy!”
I climbed halfway into the compartment and caught her beneath the shoulders. She was alive. Cold, weak, shaking—but alive.
“You found me,” she whispered.
I looked up.
Mother stood frozen.
Diane had gone completely still.
And Amelia, barely conscious, followed my gaze.
The fear in her face sharpened.
“No,” she breathed. “Don’t let them touch Noah.”
I pulled her closer. “Who did this to you?”
Her fingers locked around my forearm.
She tried to speak.
Before she could, Diane lunged toward the side table.
May you like
Not toward Amelia.
Toward Amelia’s phone.
