Chapter 4 - The Secret Room Behind the PantryThe house was dead silent. A heavy scent of lavender floor wax and old dust hung in the air—the smell of manufactured perfection.
"Hailey!" I hissed, sweeping through the kitchen. "Hailey, where are you?"
No answer.
I rushed toward the back hallway where the laundry room was located. The door was a heavy oak panel fitted with a modern deadbolt—a lock installed from the outside.
"Hailey, it's Mom! I'm here!"
I slammed my shoulder against the wood, once, twice, three times, until the frame splintered. With a final almighty kick, the door flew open, crashing against the interior wall.
The room was empty.
No Hailey. No tablet. Just a small plastic bucket filled with dry white rice spilled across the tile floor, and a faint smear of fresh blood near the baseboard.
My blood ran cold. They were home.
Before I could turn around, a cold, sharp voice sliced through the silence behind me.
"Looking for someone, Sarah?"
I spun around. Standing at the end of the hallway was Gloria Miller. She wasn't wearing her usual charity gala gown; she wore a pristine cream-colored silk blouse and tailored slacks. Her silver hair was pinned into a flawless French twist, and a thin, chilling smile played on her crimson lips.
Behind her stood Ethan, looking uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot like a guilty schoolboy caught stealing candy.
"Where is my daughter, Gloria?" I snarled, stepping forward, my fists clenched so tight my fingernails dug into my palms. "What did you do to her?"
Gloria didn't flinch. She slowly stepped into the laundry room, her eyes cold and calculating, devoid of any human warmth.
"Your daughter is throwing a tantrum, Sarah," Gloria said smoothly, as if discussing weather patterns. "Just like you used to. Some women simply lack the constitution required to be part of a high-society family. We were merely teaching her discipline. A child cannot learn obedience if she is coddled by a mother who lives in a rented apartment."
"You sick, psychotic witch," I hissed, lunging past her down the hall. "HAILLEY!"
"She's not in the house, Sarah," Ethan finally spoke up, his voice hollow and weak. "Mom sent her away. To the lodge."
I froze. I turned slowly to face my ex-husband, my eyes blazing with pure fury.
"What lodge, Ethan? What lodge?!"
Gloria stepped closer, her smile vanishing, replaced by a dark, venomous glare that made my skin crawl.
"The same lodge where we sent your sister, twenty-five years ago, when she started asking too many questions about this family," Gloria whispered softly, leaning in close. "Did you really think you were the first person to marry into this family, Sarah? Ethan’s first wife... she tried to take our child away, too."
May you like
The room tilted. My breath caught in my throat.
First wife? Ethan had never been married before. Or so he told me.
