Chapter 3: The Witness in the Walls
stepped into the foyer. She was dressed in simple, elegant clothes, her posture radiating a calm authority that seemed to drain the color from Clara’s face.
It was Elena, the niece they had claimed was lost to a tragic accident half a decade ago.
Clara stumbled back, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a scream. “No… that’s not possible. I locked that door myself. I heard the lock turn!”
May you like
“You locked it, yes,” Elena said, her voice steady and clear. “But Beatrice had the spare key—the one Julian just spent all morning tearing the study apart to find. She slipped it under the cellar door three years ago. I’ve been out for a long time, Clara. I’ve been living in the guest suite in the north wing, watching you. I’ve been listening to every conversation you’ve had about how to ‘dispose’ of the rest of the family.”
Julian stood up, his face pale, his hands shaking so violently he had to shove them into his pockets. “We can fix this, Elena. We can—we can talk about this.”
