Chapter 11 - The Second Blueprint
The sound of the tapping vibrated directly through the drywall and straight into my spine.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My coffee cup lay in a jagged puddle of ceramic and dark liquid on the kitchen floor, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the pale, neutral wall of our rented apartment. This wasn't a sprawling suburban house with hidden architectural anomalies or suspicious custom contractors. This was a cookie-cutter, high-rise luxury complex built in the heart of the city, managed by a faceless corporate landlord.
And yet, the rhythm was unmistakable. It was the exact cadence Julian used whenever he wanted to signal me through our childhood bedroom walls when our parents were fighting downstairs.
"Daddy?"
Lily’s sleepy voice broke through my panic. She padded into the kitchen in her pink pajamas, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. She stared down at the broken mug, then looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes. "Why did you drop your cup? Did a monster break the wall again?"
My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird. I forced a strained, rigid smile onto my face, kneeling down to scoop up the sharpest pieces of ceramic with my bare hands, ignoring the sudden sting as a shard bit into my palm.
"No, sweetheart," I choked out, my voice trembling. "Just... a clumsy mistake. Go back to bed. Daddy has to clean this up."
As Lily slowly retreated down the hallway, the tapping stopped. In its place came a low, rasping scrape—the sound of wood sliding against plaster, followed by a faint, muffled chuckle that turned into a wet, hacking cough.
May you like
It's impossible, my logical mind screamed. Julian is dead. The hospital confirmed his flatline. The fire reduced our old home to cinders.
But as I stood up and pressed my palm against the cool drywall, I felt a faint, drafty current of air brushing against my fingertips. There was a hollow space behind this wall, too.
