Chapter 17 - THE RETURN TO THE MANSION

I ran through the woods all night.

My legs burned. My hands bled. Branches tore at my clothes and face. But I did not stop. I thought of Emily. Locked in that cellar. Alone. Afraid. And I kept going.

By dawn, I reached the mansion. I circled around to the same door we had used before. It was locked. But the basement window—one I had noticed years ago—was broken. I squeezed through, cutting my arm, dropping into the dark.

I knew this house. I had explored every corner when I was smaller. I knew where the floors creaked. I knew which doors stuck. And most importantly… I knew where the root cellar was.

Beneath the study. Behind a heavy wooden door marked with iron bands.

I climbed the stairs slowly, carefully. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

I reached the study door. It stood slightly open. Voices drifted out.

Robert. And Miller.

"She won’t talk," Robert said. His voice was tired. "She has nothing left to bargain with. Keep her there. A few more days… and it won’t matter anymore."

"And the boy?" Miller asked.

"Gone," Robert said. "Ran into the woods. He’s five years old. Snow is coming. He will freeze. Or get lost. Either way… problem solved."

I gripped the paper in my pocket.

You are wrong, I thought. I am still here.

I slipped past the door, staying pressed against the wall. I moved to the far corner of the room. Behind the bookshelf. To the heavy iron door set into the wall. The one marked with bands. The root cellar.

I found the cross carved into one brick. Low down. Near the floor.

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I searched the floor until my fingers found a loose stone. Beneath it was an iron ring. I pulled. A section of the floor swung open, revealing stone steps leading down into darkness.

I climbed down.