Chapter 2
Ethan clung to me like he was afraid the dark room would swallow him again.
I wanted to lift him and run straight to William.
But his little hands grabbed my uniform.
“No,” he whispered. “She’ll hear.”
“She already knows I’m close.”
His eyes widened.
“Then she’ll hurt Dad.”
That stopped me.
Not because I thought Isabella was harmless.
Because Ethan said it like he had seen proof.
I pulled back just enough to see his face.
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head hard.
“She puts things in his drink.”
My breath caught.
“What things?”
“I don’t know. White drops. Sometimes he gets sleepy. Sometimes he forgets.”
The music from the ballroom rolled through the walls.
Above us, powerful people laughed under chandeliers while William Sterling toasted a woman who had locked his son underground.
I looked at Ethan’s wrist.
“Can you walk?”
He nodded, then tried to stand and stumbled.
I caught him.
His body was too light.
Too weak.
Rage moved through me, hot and sharp, but I forced it down.
He needed calm.
He needed air.
He needed his father.
I wrapped the blanket tighter around him and picked him up.
He was nine, too big for me to carry easily, but fear makes your body stronger than it should be.
I carried him up the narrow steps.
The hidden wall groaned when I pushed it open.
The staff hallway was empty.
For now.
I slipped my phone into my apron pocket while it kept recording.
“Emma,” Ethan whispered.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“She told everyone I went to Maine?”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
“My cousins are in Maine. She called them and said I didn’t want visitors.”
My stomach twisted.
Isabella had built a story around his disappearance.
Not rushed.
Planned.
We reached the linen closet.
I set Ethan inside behind shelves of folded towels.
“Stay here for one minute.”
He grabbed me.
“No.”
“I am going to get your father.”
“She’ll say I’m lying.”
“Then I’ll show him the video.”
His gaze dropped to my pocket.
“The locket too.”
“What’s on it?”
His eyes filled.
“Mom.”
My skin prickled.
Before I could ask more, a voice cut through the hall.
“Emma?”
I turned.
Isabella stood near the service stairs.
Her smile was gone.
Her eyes moved to the half-open painting.
Then to my apron pocket.
Then to the linen closet.
“Why are you down here?”
I forced my hands still.
“Cleaning up glasses.”
“Without a tray?”
I glanced at the floor where I had abandoned it.
Her mouth curved.
“You heard something.”
“No, ma’am.”
She stepped closer.
I could hear Ethan breathing behind the closet door.
Isabella’s voice softened.
“You are a good worker. Quiet. Grateful. I noticed that.”
I said nothing.
“It would be a shame if you ruined your life over a confused child.”
The hallway felt smaller.
“You said Ethan was in Maine.”
“He is.”
“Then why are you talking about a confused child?”
Her face hardened.
There it was.
The mask slipping.
She moved toward me.
“Give me your phone.”
“No.”
Her hand flashed out and grabbed my wrist.
Her nails dug through the glove.
“You have no idea what kind of family you work for.”
I looked at her hand.
Then at her face.
“I know exactly what kind of child you locked behind a wall.”
For one second, she looked shocked.
Then she shoved me backward.
My shoulder hit the brick.
Pain shot down my arm.
The linen closet door trembled.
Isabella heard it.
Her head turned.
I moved before she could.
I grabbed the tray from the floor and slammed it against the wall hard enough to send glasses crashing across the hallway.
The sound exploded through the mansion.
Music stopped.
Voices rose.
Isabella hissed, “Stupid girl.”
Then she reached for the closet.
I stepped in front of it.
“No.”
Her palm struck my face.
My head snapped sideways.
Heat burst across my cheek.
I tasted blood.
Then William appeared at the end of the hall.
“What the hell is going on?”
Isabella turned instantly.
Her voice broke into a perfect sob.
“William, thank God. Emma attacked me.”
I almost laughed.
The lie was so fast.
So practiced.
William strode toward us in his black tuxedo, his face hard.
Behind him, guests crowded near the ballroom doors.
Security followed.
Isabella pressed a hand to her chest.
“She was stealing. I caught her near the private cellar. Then she became violent.”
William’s eyes shifted to me.
“Emma?”
I could barely speak.
My cheek throbbed.
My phone was still recording in my pocket.
“Open the linen closet,” I said.
Isabella’s face went white.
William frowned.
“What?”
“Open it.”
Isabella grabbed his arm.
“Darling, she is unstable. Call security.”
The closet door opened from inside.
Ethan stepped out.
The hallway died.
No gasps.
No whispers.
Just silence.
William looked at his son like his brain refused to understand what his eyes saw.
Ethan stood barefoot, pale, shaking under an old blanket.
“Dad,” he whispered.
William moved.
Fast.
He dropped to his knees and caught Ethan before he fell.
“My God. Ethan. Ethan.”
Ethan broke.
He sobbed into his father’s chest with a sound that made every person in that hallway look away.
William held him tightly, one hand on the back of his head.
“Who did this?”
Ethan pointed with a shaking finger.
Isabella stepped back.
“No. No, he’s confused.”
I pulled out my phone.
“The video isn’t.”
William looked at me.
I pressed play.
Isabella’s voice filled the hall.
“The boy won’t be a problem much longer.”
William’s face changed.
Not slowly.
All at once.
The warmth left him.
The grief left him.
Only something terrifying remained.
He stood with Ethan in his arms and looked at his wife.
“What did you do to my son?”
Isabella opened her mouth.
May you like
Before she could answer, Ethan lifted the locket.
“She did something to Mom too.”
