Chapter 3 - the woman in the camera)
Owen did not show Lily.
He almost did.
Then he imagined what would happen if the image wasn't real.
Lily already believed Claire was behind the pantry.
Giving her false hope seemed cruel.
Instead Owen spent Saturday testing the footage.
He copied the file.
He increased brightness.
He slowed it.
The figure remained.
A woman stood in the dining room for less than one second.
She wore the same pale-blue nightdress Claire had been wearing in the last family photograph taken before her death.
Owen remembered that photograph because Daniel kept it inside his desk.
Mother.
Father.
Owen at six.
Lily at three.
Claire had been laughing because Lily refused to look at the camera.
Three days later Claire was dead.
The official explanation had been cardiac arrest.
Owen had believed it until he was eight.
Then he overheard two adults speaking after Vanessa and Daniel's wedding.
One had been Claire's sister, Aunt Rebecca.
The other was Daniel's longtime attorney, Marcus Bell.
Rebecca had said, “Claire was thirty-four. She ran five miles every morning.”
Marcus answered, “The autopsy was conclusive.”
“Then why wouldn't Daniel let them do toxicology twice?”
“He did.”
“Not independently.”
Owen hadn't understood everything.
He remembered enough.
Now he stared at the image of Claire.
He enlarged it until the pixels blurred.
There was something around her neck.
A silver pendant.
Owen's stomach tightened.
Claire's pendant had disappeared after her death.
A small oval locket engraved with the letter M.
Daniel had searched for it for months.
Vanessa claimed it had probably been lost at the hospital.
Yet here it was.
Around the neck of a woman recorded inside their house four years later.
“Owen?”
He closed the laptop.
Lily stood in his doorway.
“What?”
“You're acting weird.”
“I'm doing homework.”
“It's Saturday.”
“I have homework on Saturday.”
“You hate homework on Saturday.”
“Can you please go?”
Lily stared.
“You found something.”
“No.”
“Show me.”
“No.”
She moved toward the laptop.
Owen blocked her.
“Owen.”
“Lily, stop.”
“It's Mom, isn't it?”
He froze.
“How did you know?”
“Because I saw her too.”
The room became quiet.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Where?”
“The kitchen window.”
Owen lowered his voice.
“What exactly did you see?”
“A lady.”
“That could be anyone.”
“She looked like Mom.”
“You were three when she died.”
“I know what Mom looks like.”
“From pictures.”
Lily's face hardened.
“Mom had a tiny white line under her chin.”
Owen stopped.
Claire had a small scar beneath her chin from falling off a bicycle when she was twelve.
It was barely visible in photographs.
“How do you know that?”
“She showed me.”
Owen felt cold.
“When?”
“In my dream.”
“Lily.”
“It wasn't a dream.”
“You just said…”
“I thought it was a dream until she told me about the pantry.”
Every muscle in Owen's body tightened.
“What did she tell you?”
Lily walked closer.
“She said don't let Vanessa open the red door.”
“What red door?”
“I don't know.”
“Did she say anything else?”
Lily nodded.
“She said Dad forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“She said he'll remember when his eyes burn.”
Owen stared at her.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“I know.”
He opened the laptop.
Lily saw the frozen image.
Her face changed instantly.
“That's her.”
Owen watched his sister.
There was no hesitation.
No confusion.
Just recognition.
Lily touched the screen.
“Mom.”
The bedroom door slammed shut behind them.
Both children jumped.
There was no one there.
Owen slowly approached the door.
It would not open.
He turned the handle.
Locked.
But his bedroom didn't have a lock.
“Vanessa?” Lily whispered.
Three knocks came from inside the wall.
Owen stepped away.
Three more.
The laptop screen flickered.
The photograph disappeared.
Static filled the display.
Then words appeared.
Not typed.
Not part of the video.
They formed slowly inside the static.
DO NOT TRUST THE GREEN WOMAN
Lily screamed.
Owen shut the laptop.
The bedroom door flew open.
Vanessa stood outside.
“What happened?”
Neither child answered.
She looked at the laptop.
Then at them.
“Were you watching something?”
“No,” Owen said.
Vanessa entered.
“You screamed.”
“I saw a spider,” Lily blurted.
Vanessa looked around.
“A spider.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“It ran away.”
Vanessa studied her.
Then she looked at Owen's blazer.
For one terrifying moment, Owen thought she had noticed the camera.
Instead she touched the gold crest.
“You should take better care of your uniform.”
Owen stepped backward.
Vanessa smiled.
“Your mother used to say appearances matter.”
Owen's jaw tightened.
“Don't talk about her.”
“Why?”
“You hated her.”
Vanessa's smile vanished.
“You don't know anything about Claire.”
“You knew her?”
That question landed differently.
Vanessa's eyes changed.
Owen saw it.
“You knew Mom before Dad?”
Vanessa removed her hand from the blazer.
“I knew of her.”
“How?”
“Everyone knew the Mercers.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means your father comes from an old family.”
“So?”
“So stop asking questions about things you don't understand.”
Vanessa walked toward the door.
Lily spoke.
“Did Mom know about the pantry?”
Vanessa stopped.
She didn't turn around.
“Yes.”
One word.
Barely louder than a whisper.
Then she left.
Owen and Lily stared at each other.
For the first time, they understood something important.
May you like
The pantry had not begun with Vanessa.
And whatever waited behind those doors had been part of their family long before Claire died.
