Chapter 1: The Woman in the Champagne Dress
“Daddy! DON’T SAY YES! MOMMY IS UNDER THE POOL!””
The little girl’s scream shattered the romantic evening.
Marcus Whitmore froze on one knee, a diamond ring resting inside an open red velvet box. In front of him stood Vanessa Reed, the woman he had intended to marry, wearing a champagne-colored silk dress and a smile that had taken him months to fall in love with.
Behind them, the enormous swimming pool reflected the golden lights of the Whitmore mansion.
For one second, nobody moved.
Then Marcus turned.
His six-year-old daughter, Ava, was running across the marble terrace barefoot, her white party dress fluttering around her knees. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her little hands trembled as she pointed toward the center of the pool.
“Daddy! Mommy is down there!””
Marcus blinked.
“What?””
“Mommy!”” Ava screamed again.
“She's under the water! I saw her! She's alive!””
Vanessa's smile disappeared.
It happened so quickly that most of the guests probably wouldn't have noticed. But Marcus did.
The corners of her mouth tightened. Her eyes darted toward the pool, then back to the child.
“Ava, sweetheart,” Vanessa said, forcing a gentle laugh.
“That's enough. You're getting yourself upset.””
Ava shook her head violently.
“I'm not lying!””
Marcus slowly stood, still holding the ring box.
“Ava, baby, come here.””
But the little girl didn't move toward him.
Instead, she pointed harder.
“There's a door down there, Daddy. Mommy was behind it. I saw her hand!””
A few guests exchanged uncomfortable glances.
Marcus's older brother, Daniel, lowered his champagne glass.
“Marcus, perhaps we should take her inside. She's been having nightmares lately.””
“That's not a nightmare!”” Ava cried.
Vanessa immediately stepped between Marcus and the pool.
“She has been struggling since Eleanor disappeared,” Vanessa explained.
“You know that. Children invent things when they're grieving.””
Marcus stared at her.
Eleanor.
His wife.
Ava's mother.
She had disappeared eleven months earlier.
The police had searched the surrounding woods, questioned employees, examined security footage, and investigated every lead they could find. Her car had been discovered abandoned near an old country road, but Eleanor herself had never been found.
Eventually, the investigation had gone cold.
Marcus had spent eleven months living with the possibility that his wife was dead.
And now his daughter was telling him something different.
“Daddy,” Ava whispered, her voice suddenly smaller.
“Mommy told me to find you.””
Marcus felt the blood drain from his face.
“What did you say?””
Ava swallowed.
“She said you would know what to do.””
Vanessa grabbed his arm.
“Marcus, please. Don't encourage this.””
He looked down at her fingers gripping his sleeve.
“Let go.””
“I'm trying to protect you.””
“From what?””
Vanessa's eyes glistened.
“From another breakdown. From another false hope. You know how much you've suffered.””
Marcus pulled his arm free.
Then he looked at Ava.
“Tell me exactly what you saw.””
The little girl took a shaky breath.
“Last night, I couldn't sleep. I went to the garden because I heard Mommy singing.””
Marcus stared at her.
Eleanor used to sing an old lullaby whenever Ava couldn't sleep.
It was a song Marcus had never heard anyone else sing.
“What happened next?”” he asked.
“I followed the sound. I saw lights under the swimming pool. Then I saw Mommy's face through a little window.””
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
Ava continued.
“She put her hand against the glass. She was crying. She moved her mouth, Daddy. She said my name.””
“That's impossible,” Vanessa whispered.
But Ava wasn't looking at her anymore.
“She said, 'Find Daddy. Don't let Vanessa—'”
“ENOUGH!””
Vanessa's voice cracked through the terrace.
Every guest turned.
For the first time that evening, the woman who always appeared perfectly composed had completely lost control.
She crouched in front of Ava and gripped both her shoulders.
“Listen to me, little girl. You are confused. Your mother is gone. You need to stop making up these stories.””
Ava whimpered.
“You're hurting me.””
Marcus moved immediately.
“Take your hands off my daughter.””
Vanessa released her.
“I didn't mean—”
“Daniel,” Marcus said without looking away from her, “get everyone away from the pool.””
His brother frowned.
“Marcus, don't do anything stupid.””
“Now.””
The guests began moving toward the house.
Vanessa stood up and adjusted her dress.
“Marcus, this is ridiculous. We were having a beautiful evening. You were about to ask me to marry you.””
He glanced at the red ring box still in his hand.
Then he closed it.
“I asked you a question earlier.””
Her expression changed.
“What question?””
“What are you hiding from me?””
Vanessa stared at him.
For several seconds, the only sound was the gentle movement of water against the pool's tiled edges.
Then she gave a nervous laugh.
“Nothing. What would I possibly be hiding?””
Marcus stepped toward the water.
Vanessa grabbed his arm again.
“Marcus, don't.””
He looked at her hand.
“Move.””
“Please. Listen to me. There's something about this pool you don't understand.””
That sentence stopped him.
“What does that mean?””
Vanessa's eyes widened as though she had said something she hadn't intended to reveal.
“It's deep. That's all. The filtration system is complicated. There are dangerous maintenance areas underneath.””
Marcus slowly turned toward her.
“Maintenance areas?””
“Marcus—”
He pulled away.
Then he threw off his royal-blue jacket, dropped it beside the red ring box, and ran toward the pool.
“Marcus, DON'T GO DOWN THERE!””
He jumped.
The cold water swallowed him.
For a moment, everything became silent.
The golden lights above the surface dissolved into blurred streaks. Marcus kicked downward, his lungs tightening as he searched the tiled floor.
Nothing.
Just blue ceramic, pale reflections, and the dark shadow of the deep end.
Then he noticed something strange.
A section of the pool floor near the far wall looked different from the surrounding tiles. It was a large rectangular shape, almost perfectly concealed beneath a layer of blue mosaic.
Marcus swam closer.
There.
A metal handle.
He grabbed it.
It was attached to a large, dark steel hatch embedded in the floor.
Marcus pulled.
Nothing.
He repositioned his hands and strained again.
The hatch shifted slightly.
A cloud of bubbles escaped from its edges.
Above him, through the distorted water, he could see Vanessa standing at the pool's edge.
She wasn't calling for help.
She was staring at him.
And she was crying.
Marcus pulled harder.
The heavy metal door finally moved several inches.
Cold water surged through the opening.
Beyond it was darkness.
And something that looked suspiciously like a staircase.
Marcus's heart hammered against his ribs.
He had built this mansion six years earlier.
He knew every room, every corridor, every underground utility passage.
There was no staircase beneath this pool.
He reached into the opening.
His fingertips brushed something soft.
Fabric.
He pulled it toward the light.
A small white piece of cloth floated free.
Marcus recognized the delicate embroidered flower immediately.
It was from Eleanor's favorite nightgown.
The same nightgown she had been wearing the night she disappeared.
His lungs burned.
He looked down into the black opening.
And then, from somewhere beneath the pool, something struck the metal.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Someone was knocking from the other side.
May you like
Marcus's eyes widened.
Eleanor?
