Chapter 3 - ROOM 214
Room 214 was on the second floor.
It had once been a guest bedroom.
Now it was a storage room.
At least, that's what everyone had told me.
I hadn't opened it in years.
Marcus Hale stood beside me as I unlocked the door.
“Anything unusual?” I asked.
“Not from the outside.”
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Dust.
Old furniture.
Boxes.
Nothing more.
Then Lily appeared at the end of the hallway.
Anna was behind her.
“Lily,” Anna said softly.
The girl looked at Room 214.
Her expression changed.
She squeezed her stuffed rabbit.
“I don't like that room.”
I crouched.
“Why?”
“Mommy said not to go there.”
Anna froze.
I looked at her.
“Why?”
Anna's face went pale.
“I didn't want her near it.”
“What's inside?”
“I don't know.”
That answer sounded rehearsed.
I opened the door wider.
Lily suddenly limped backward.
“No.”
She pointed toward the floor.
“Not there.”
I looked down.
A faint scratch crossed the wooden floor.
Then another.
The scratches formed a line from the door toward the far wall.
Lily's brace had nothing to do with those.
They were old.
I followed them.
The trail ended beneath a large cabinet.
Marcus Hale moved it aside.
Behind it was a small metal panel.
Locked.
I looked at him.
“Open it.”
He worked for less than a minute.
The panel came loose.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
And inside that compartment was a stack of envelopes.
All addressed to me.
My name.
My home address.
Dates.
Three years old.
I opened the first.
It was from a contractor.
Mr. Moretti, I have serious concerns regarding structural access around Room 214...
The second came from a former employee.
I believe someone is using your household accounts without authorization.
The third was from a doctor.
Please contact me regarding a child who may have been exposed to an unsafe environment...
I stopped.
A child.
I opened another.
The handwriting belonged to someone I recognized.
My younger brother, Daniel.
He had died six years earlier.
The letter was dated four years ago.
Impossible.
I read it twice.
Anthony,
If you're reading this, someone has been lying to you about what happened in this house.
Do not trust the household records.
Do not trust Evelyn.
And most importantly, keep children away from Room 214.
At the bottom was one sentence.
I found something behind the wall.
My hands went cold.
“Daniel was here,” I whispered.
Marcus looked at me.
“What?”
I didn't answer.
I called for a structural engineer.
An hour later, we opened the wall.
Behind it was an old service passage.
Inside was a chair.
A desk.
A telephone.
And a small security monitor.
The monitor was still connected to power.
Marcus Hale stared at it.
“Someone has been using this.”
“Recently?”
He checked the system.
“Yesterday.”
I looked at the screen.
A camera feed appeared.
The kitchen.
Then the staff entrance.
Then Lily.
The camera angle showed her struggling with the threshold.
I felt something break inside me.
Someone had been watching her.
Not just watching.
Waiting.
The screen changed.
A video began playing.
Evelyn appeared.
She was speaking to a man whose face remained outside the camera's range.
“You promised this would be finished.”
The man answered.
“It's almost done.”
“What about the child?”
“She won't matter.”
Evelyn looked uneasy.
“She already noticed.”
The man paused.
“Then make sure she doesn't notice again.”
The video ended.
I stared at Marcus.
“Can you identify the voice?”
He nodded slowly.
“I've heard it before.”
“Where?”
He looked toward me.
“Your father's old recordings.”
I felt the room tilt.
My father had been dead for fourteen years.
But someone had been using his voice.
Marcus searched the system.
Then his expression changed.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“What?”
“This camera system isn't connected to the internet.”
“Then how was someone watching it?”
Marcus looked at the hidden telephone.
“They weren't watching remotely.”
He pointed toward the basement.
“They were watching from inside the house.”
At that exact moment, the lights went out.
May you like
A door slammed downstairs.
Then Lily screamed.
