Chapter 3 - The Secret in the AtticThe next morning, the mansion felt different. The golden rectangles of sunlight stretching across the polished floors didn't feel lonely anymore; they felt alive with the small, hurried patter of bare feet.
Martha found Sawyer in the study before breakfast, staring blankly at a legal document regarding the girls' temporary custody.
“They’re up,” Martha said, pouring him a fresh cup of black coffee. “And they’ve already turned the sunroom upside down looking for ‘spare parts.’”
“Spare parts?” Sawyer frowned.
“Old vacuum cleaner motors, bicycle chains, and scrap metal from the garage storage. The little one—June—told me they used to build toys out of garbage behind the railway station.”
Sawyer wheeled himself into the sunroom. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.
Lila and June had dragged a discarded motorized wheelchair from the estate’s maintenance shed—an ancient, rusted relic with a dead battery that Sawyer had forgotten was even there. Lila was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding a screwdriver she had taken from Robert’s toolbox, her tongue poking out in intense concentration as she rewired the control panel.
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“What are you doing?” Sawyer asked.
“Building you a chariot,” Lila said without looking up. “You can’t fight the dark sitting down. If you want your legs to work, you have to trick them into believing they’re chasing something.”
