Chapter 3 - THE VOICE IN THE DARK
Amanda spun toward the whisper, but the darkness erased every shape.
“Who is there?”
No one answered.
Ethan clung to her so tightly that his fingernails pressed through her coat. Amanda moved backward until her shoulder touched the wall. She knew the mansion’s layout well enough to reach the service corridor without light, but the locked doors and cell jammer meant someone controlled the house from the security room.
A match flared.
For an instant, a narrow face appeared near the staircase.
Marta Reyes, the Vale family’s senior housekeeper.
She raised one finger to her lips, then extinguished the flame.
“Follow me,” she whispered.
Amanda hesitated. Marta had served Vivian for almost twenty years. She was loyal, quiet, and nearly invisible in the way wealthy families preferred their staff to be.
Richard’s voice cut through the darkness.
“Amanda, stay where you are.”
A beam from his phone swept across the foyer.
Marta caught Amanda’s sleeve and guided her toward a concealed panel behind a tapestry. The panel opened into a narrow servants’ passage. Amanda entered sideways, holding Ethan close. Marta shut the panel just before Richard’s light reached the wall.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and old wood.
“Why are you helping me?” Amanda asked.
“Because I should have helped sooner.”
They moved through the passage while muffled footsteps crossed the hallway outside.
Ethan lifted his head. “Miss Marta gave me water.”
Marta stopped.
“I found him after Mrs. Vale left the hall,” she said. “I tried to remove the strap. Mr. Vale came back. He told me I would lose my visa sponsorship and my sister’s medical support if I interfered again.”
Amanda’s anger sharpened into focus. “You saw what happened during the missing footage.”
“Yes.”
“What was deleted?”
Marta looked toward Ethan.
Amanda understood. “Not in front of him.”
The passage ended beside an old linen room. Marta opened the door and checked the corridor. Emergency lights had come on, bathing the mansion in a dim red glow.
“My room has an outside window,” Marta said. “You can leave through the garden.”
“What did you see?”
“Mrs. Vale brought a man into the house.”
“What man?”
“I do not know his name. He wore a doctor’s coat, but he did not behave like a doctor. He carried a case. Mr. Vale made Ethan sit in the library. They asked him questions about a red door, a lake, and a man who gave him a wooden bird.”
Amanda’s blood ran cold.
Ethan owned a small carved bird. He had carried it everywhere since the previous winter. Richard had said he found it in the garden.
“What red door?”
Marta shook her head. “Ethan said he dreamed about it. The man told Mrs. Vale that children confuse memories with dreams.”
“Then what happened?”
“They gave him something to drink.”
Amanda looked down at her son.
His eyelids were heavy. She had assumed exhaustion. Now she saw the slight slackness around his mouth.
“What did they give him?”
“I do not know.” Marta’s voice broke. “He became sleepy. They took blood from his arm. Then the man said the first DNA report was useless because the boy’s sample was contaminated.”
Amanda pulled back Ethan’s pajama sleeve.
A small puncture mark darkened the inside of his elbow.
The report in her coat had claimed a hair sample.
“They took blood after the report was already issued,” she said.
Marta nodded.
“Why?”
“The man said they needed to compare him to ‘the original line.’”
Amanda felt the floor tilt beneath her.
A crash echoed from the foyer.
Richard had discovered the hidden panel.
Marta hurried them toward the servants’ stairs. “Go. I will delay them.”
Amanda caught her hand. “Come with us.”
“I cannot.”
“Because of your sister?”
Marta’s eyes filled. “Because Mrs. Vale has my passport.”
Amanda wanted to argue, but Richard’s footsteps were already entering the passage.
She took Ethan down the stairs, through the kitchen, and into Marta’s small room. Rain tapped the narrow window. Amanda pushed it open and looked down. The drop to the garden was less than five feet.
She climbed through first, then reached up for Ethan.
A hand seized the back of his pajamas.
Amanda looked up.
Richard stood inside the room, holding their son.
Ethan screamed and reached for her.
“Let him go!”
Richard pulled Ethan back from the window. “You are not taking him to the police with a fabricated story.”
Amanda gripped the stone sill. “I have the video.”
“You have eleven minutes taken out of context.”
“What context makes that acceptable?”
Richard’s jaw tightened. “You do not understand what he is.”
Amanda went still.
Not who.
What.
“Say that again.”
Richard looked down at Ethan, and for the first time Amanda saw fear in his face.
“The missing footage proves he remembers things he could not possibly know.”
Lightning illuminated the room.
Behind Richard, Vivian appeared in the doorway holding the silver bell.
She rang it once.
Ethan stopped screaming.
His body went rigid.
May you like
Then, in a voice that did not sound like a frightened four-year-old, he whispered:
“The red door is open.”
