Chapter 3 - Caroline's Desperate Confession About The Secret Room
The sudden rush of recycled air carried the faint scent of old blankets, damp earth, and dried lavender.
I pulled the wooden panel outward, revealing a narrow corridor lined with acoustic foam and electrical wiring.
“They weren't supposed to still be here,” Caroline repeated, her knees suddenly buckling as she sank onto Lily’s floral rug.
Four-year-old Lily watched us with wide, innocent eyes, clutching her stuffed rabbit tightly against her chest.
“Who wasn't supposed to be here, Caroline?” I asked, turning my head back to look down at my trembling wife.
“I thought... I thought they left the state months ago,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.
The little girl who had called me Daddy stepped out from the shadows of the corridor into the warm bedroom light.
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She looked to be about five years old, wearing oversized pajamas and staring at me with an eerie, familiar gaze.
“Daddy,” she whispered again, taking a tiny step across the threshold toward my outstretched hand.
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