Chapter 7 - The Truth Under the SoilI couldn't just sit there. I knew the house better than anyone. I knew the service tunnels.
I left Emma with the guards—telling them she was safe—and slipped through the vents. I crawled through the dark, narrow spaces, my heart hammering. I emerged in the greenhouse, the smell of damp earth and rot hitting my nostrils.
Vanessa was there, frantically clawing at the dirt beneath the bench. She was sobbing, digging with her bare, manicured hands.
"You won't find it," I said, my voice echoing in the glass structure.
She spun around, a shovel in her hand. Her face was a mask of pure hate. "You! You little rat! You ruined everything! You don't know what you’ve done!"
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"I know that my husband died because of this project," I said, standing tall. "He was a foreman. He found out you were cutting corners, using cheap materials that would collapse under weight. He tried to warn them, and you silenced him."
Vanessa sneered. "He was a nobody. Just like you."
