Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Sub-Basement
The text glowed on Anna’s phone screen like a burning ember in the dark room.
Your daughter should have stayed in the ballroom. Next time, there won't be a cake between us.
Anna’s breath hitched, her lungs refusing to expand as a paralyzing wave of terror washed over her. She gripped the edge of the nightstand, her knuckles turning bone-white. The threat was not vague; it was personal, immediate, and direct. Whoever had sent it knew where she was, knew she was awake, and most chillingly, knew about Lily.
She looked toward the bed. Lily shifted slightly in her sleep, her breathing soft and even, entirely oblivious to the lethal game unfolding around them.
Anna’s maternal fear instantly hardened into cold, protective resolve. Whoever was hunting them had miscalculated. They thought she was a helpless housekeeper who would cower behind locked doors. They didn't know that Anna had spent years guarding her own life before ever stepping foot inside Whitmore Estate.
Without making a sound, she tucked the phone into the pocket of her robe, pulled a small, heavy iron-plated doorstop from her luggage bag, and wedged it firmly beneath the wooden handle of her bedroom door. If anyone tried to pick the lock or force entry, the door would hold long enough to wake her.
In the hallway outside, heavy, hurried footsteps echoed against the wainscoting.
Anna pressed her ear to the wood.
"Secure the perimeter doors!" Marco’s voice barked through the corridor, clipped and urgent. "I want every exterior exit locked down. If anyone tries to slip through the service tunnels, intercept them immediately."
May you like
A chorus of affirmative shouts answered him.
Anna realized she couldn't just sit in the dark and wait to be hunted. Emily Price was unconscious in the old Victorian greenhouse, the security system had been sabotaged, and someone had just sent a direct threat to her phone. The inner circle of Whitmore House had been compromised, and the enemy was already inside the walls.
