CHAPTER 7 — The Bullet That Exposed The Real Monster
The gunshot exploded through the darkness.
Glass shattered.
Lily screamed upstairs.
Amelia dropped to the concrete floor on instinct as another shot ricocheted off a metal filing cabinet.
Michael grabbed her arm.
"Move!"
They crawled behind a row of dusty shelves while footsteps echoed through the basement.
Slow.
Deliberate.
The shooter wasn't panicking.
He was hunting.
Amelia held her breath.
She could hear the click of expensive leather shoes against the concrete.
Not boots.
Dress shoes.
Someone who belonged inside the mansion.
The flashlight beam swept across the room.
The gunman spoke in a calm voice.
"You should've left the past buried."
Another shot.
The bullet ripped through the cabinet inches above Amelia's head.
Michael looked around desperately.
"There!"
A narrow maintenance tunnel ran behind the furnace room.
He shoved Amelia toward it.
"Take Lily and get out!"
"What about you?"
"I'll slow him down."
Before Amelia could stop him, Michael stood up and sprinted in the opposite direction.
The shooter immediately fired twice.
Bang!
Bang!
Michael collapsed behind an old boiler.
"Michael!"
"I'm fine!" he shouted.
"Go!"
Amelia crawled through the narrow tunnel until she reached the kitchen pantry.
She burst into the ballroom.
Guests screamed at the sight of her.
Her face was covered in dust.
"There’s a gunman in the basement!"
Panic erupted.
People rushed toward every exit.
Crystal glasses shattered.
The orchestra abandoned their instruments.
Security guards raced downstairs.
Richard grabbed Amelia's shoulders.
"Where's Michael?"
Before she could answer...
Two guards carried Michael upstairs.
Blood soaked his white shirt.
Claire cried out.
"Oh my God..."
The paramedics cut away his jacket.
Everyone expected the worst.
Then one medic froze.
"There’s no bullet wound."
"What?"
Michael slowly opened his eyes.
He reached into his inner pocket.
A cracked silver cigarette case slid onto the floor.
The bullet had struck it instead of his heart.
The room erupted in relieved applause.
But Michael wasn't smiling.
He stared toward the basement stairs.
"He escaped."
Richard barked at the head of security.
"Seal every gate!"
"No one leaves this property!"
Within minutes, police officers flooded the estate.
Every guest was questioned.
Every vehicle searched.
No weapon.
No suspect.
It was as if the shooter had vanished into thin air.
Hours later...
A detective entered Richard's study carrying a small evidence bag.
"We found this beside the basement door."
Inside was a single gold cufflink engraved with the letter W.
Richard frowned.
"That's impossible."
Claire looked confused.
"What does the W mean?"
Richard's face turned pale.
"Only members of this family own cufflinks like these."
Silence filled the room.
The detective looked around at everyone present.
"Which means..."
"...the person who tried to kill Amelia tonight wasn't an intruder."
"He was already inside this house."
Every family member slowly looked at one another.
Then Lily quietly spoke for the first time.
"That's not true."
Everyone turned toward the twelve-year-old girl.
She pointed at the gold cufflink.
"I've seen this before."
Richard knelt beside her.
"Where?"
Lily swallowed nervously.
"The man who visited Grandma and Grandpa before they died..."
"He wore the exact same one."
The room froze.
Amelia stared at her daughter.
"You never told me that."
Lily's small voice trembled.
"I was scared."
"He told me if I ever talked..."
"...my mommy would disappear again."
The detective's expression hardened.
"Can you describe him?"
Lily closed her eyes.
Then whispered five words that made Eleanor collapse to the floor.
"It wasn't a stranger."
"...It was Uncle David."
The room fell into stunned silence.
Richard looked as though the air had been ripped from his lungs.
"My brother..."
"No..."
"He died eighteen years ago."
Lily slowly shook her head.
May you like
"No."
"He told me everyone only thinks he's dead."
