Chapter 9 - The Girl Beneath the Floor
While Eleanor prepared for the funeral, Chloe lay awake inside the casket and listened.
She had learned that adults revealed more when they believed a child was sleeping.
Julian and Victoria stood nearby.
Dr. Keller adjusted the breathing machine beneath the casket.
“The dose should last through the service,” he said.
Victoria checked her phone.
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Give her another injection before the procession.”
Julian paced.
“No more.”
Victoria looked at him.
“You have discovered a conscience at an inconvenient time.”
“She can barely breathe.”
“That is the point.”
“You promised she would not suffer.”
Victoria laughed.
“You helped fake your daughter’s death, placed her in a coffin, and planned to kill your mother. Do not pretend suffering was your concern.”
Julian grabbed her arm.
“We can still stop.”
“Stop?”
“We take Chloe somewhere safe. We return the money.”
“The money is gone.”
“Then we confess.”
Victoria stared at him as though he had spoken another language.
“You think confession ends this?”
“It ends the lying.”
“It ends your life.”
“I deserve that.”
Victoria pulled free.
“And what about Chloe? The Chairman will never allow her to live after what Sophie told her.”
Julian went still.
Chloe listened carefully.
“Chloe doesn’t know anything,” he said.
“Then why has she resisted every memory treatment?”
“She’s a child.”
“She is Sophie’s child.”
Victoria opened the casket.
Chloe closed her eyes.
A hand touched her cheek.
Julian’s hand.
“Chloe,” he whispered.
She remained still.
“I’m sorry.”
Victoria stood behind him.
“Do not waste your apology. She will not remember it.”
Julian withdrew his hand.
Their footsteps moved away.
Chloe opened her eyes.
She had heard one important thing.
The machine beneath her controlled the lock.
She felt along the satin mattress until her fingers found a seam.
The space below was narrow, but Chloe had always been small. Victoria complained that she ate too little. Dr. Keller said the medicine caused nausea.
Chloe pulled at the seam.
It opened.
Beneath the mattress lay a metal panel, tubes, wires, and a sealed silver box.
She pushed her hand through the gap.
Her fingers reached a switch.
The machine changed sound.
Chloe froze.
Footsteps approached.
She released the switch and closed the seam.
Dr. Keller looked inside.
“You’re awake.”
Chloe did not answer.
He checked her pupils.
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing.”
He examined the mattress.
Chloe held her breath.
Before he found the seam, Victoria called him from the hallway.
“Keller, now.”
He closed the lid.
Chloe returned to the panel.
She pressed the switch again.
A tiny green light turned red.
The magnetic latch released with a soft click.
Chloe pushed the lid.
It opened.
She sat up slowly.
The preparation room was empty.
Her legs shook when she climbed from the casket. She wore the white dress Victoria had chosen for the funeral. Bare feet touched the cold floor.
A service door stood open at the rear of the room.
Chloe moved toward it.
Voices came from the main corridor.
She entered the service passage instead.
It smelled of dust and wet stone.
The passage led downward into darkness.
Chloe followed the wall.
At the bottom of a narrow staircase, she found a tunnel lined with old bricks. Electric cables ran along the ceiling toward the cemetery.
She heard a man groaning.
“Hello?”
The sound stopped.
“Who’s there?” a weak voice asked.
Chloe followed it to a locked storage room.
Through a small window, she saw Owen tied to a chair.
“You’re the funeral man.”
Owen lifted his head.
“Chloe?”
She reached for the door handle.
“It’s locked.”
“There’s a key on the wall beside you.”
Chloe found it and opened the door.
Owen’s face was swollen. Blood stained his shirt.
“You’re alive,” he said.
“Victoria says I’m supposed to be dead.”
Chloe pulled at the ropes.
Owen guided her toward a sharp metal edge on a shelf. Together they cut through the bindings.
“We need to get out,” he said.
“My grandma is coming tomorrow.”
“We cannot wait.”
Owen stood, then nearly collapsed.
Chloe caught his hand.
“This way goes to the cemetery.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard them talking.”
They moved through the tunnel.
Halfway to the mausoleum, voices approached from the funeral home.
Owen pulled Chloe behind a stone support.
Victoria and Dr. Keller entered the passage.
“The federal investigator is already moving,” Keller said.
“Then we finish before she arrives.”
“What about Julian?”
“He is becoming unreliable.”
“And Eleanor?”
“She dies in the vault.”
They walked past the hiding place.
Chloe’s hand shook inside Owen’s.
When the voices faded, they continued toward the mausoleum.
At the end of the tunnel, they found a steel door.
Owen tried the handle.
Locked.
A keypad glowed beside it.
“We’re trapped,” he said.
Chloe looked through a narrow ventilation opening.
Beyond the door stood the Whitmore family vault.
On a stone shelf rested a photograph of Sophie.
Chloe touched the bluebird necklace around her neck.
“Mommy said bluebirds always know the way home.”
She entered the four numbers of her mother’s birthday.
The keypad flashed green.
Owen stared at her.
The door opened.
Cold morning air entered the vault.
They were less than fifty yards from freedom.
Then a red light appeared on Owen’s chest.
A laser sight.
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“Step away from the child,” a man ordered.
Captain Reeves emerged from behind Sophie’s tomb.
