ログインSheila’s POVI could hear shouting upstairs—Vanessa’s voice cutting through the storm, shrill with panic, followed by Adrian’s deeper roar. Then a crash. Something heavy shattered.Now or never.My wrists burned, but the rope finally gave way after days of grinding it against the metal hook. I slipped free, my fingers trembling as blood returned to my hands. Every sound from above pushed me faster. I didn’t think about pain or fear—just the door, the rain, and the hope of air that didn’t reek of damp and despair.The basement door creaked open. No one came running. I crept up the stairs, my bare feet silent against the wood. The lights flickered, shadows dancing along the walls like ghosts celebrating my rebellion.At the top, chaos had already erupted. The hallway was wrecked—broken glass, overturned furniture, and a trail of blood that led toward the living room. The baby’s cries pierced through the noise, desperate and terrified.Vanessa’s voice broke through next, “You’re insane,
Adrian’s POVVanessa stood across from me, her face pale but defiant.“How long?” I demanded, my voice rough, almost unrecognizable. “How long have you been sneaking around my office?”She didn’t answer. Her lips trembled, but her eyes,those wide, terrified eyes,held something else. Disgust.That look made something in me snap.I turned toward the desk, grabbed the laptop, and hurled it to the floor. It broke open in a spray of sparks and cracked plastic. The sound of it splintering was satisfying in a way it shouldn’t have been.“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I shouted. My voice bounced off the walls, too loud, too alive. “You think you understand what this is? You think that woman told you the truth?”“Sheila,” she said. Her voice was steady now, colder. “Her name is *Sheila.*”The way she said it,the way the name rolled off her tongue,made the room spin.“She was your wife,” Vanessa continued. “Your *victim.* And she’s alive. I saw her. She’s in the basement. You’re keepi
Vanessa’s POVThe mansion was too quiet.Not the kind of quiet that felt peaceful,but the kind that made every heartbeat sound like a confession.Adrian had finally fallen asleep downstairs, or maybe he’d passed out. I couldn’t tell the difference anymore. The smell of liquor had become part of the air we breathed,thick, stale, suffocating.The baby was asleep in the nursery. The monitor blinked softly, steady and innocent, as if it wasn’t sitting in the middle of a house full of secrets.And me? I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d seen in the basement.Rachel,no, *Sheila.*Her voice, her eyes, the calm fury in her face even as she sat there tied up. It hadn’t been fear I saw in her. It was something else. Something sharper.It had been truth.Now, that truth wouldn’t stop echoing in my head.I paced my room for hours after leaving her there. Every step, every breath felt heavier. I should have told Adrian. Should have run. Should have called someone,anyone. But something inside m
Sheila’s POVThe dark had stopped feeling like night a long time ago.Down here, it was just endless.I didn’t know how many days had passed since Adrian dragged me back and tied me like some wild thing that needed caging. My wrists were raw, burning every time I twisted them, and the ropes had cut so deep I could feel the pulse in my bones.But pain wasn’t new to me.Pain meant I was still alive.I’d learned how to use it,to think through it, breathe through it, survive through it.At first, I screamed. The sound bounced off the stone walls and came back empty. Then I stopped wasting my breath. The silence became company, the dripping pipe above me a ticking clock I couldn’t see.Adrian came and went like a ghost. Sometimes he shouted from the top of the stairs, slurred words tangled in liquor. Other times, he just stood there watching me, saying nothing. His eyes didn’t even look like his anymore. They were hollow. Cracked.The man who’d once smiled at me like I was his world now lo
Sebastian’s POVSomething was wrong.I knew it the second the timer on my desk hit midnight and the screen stayed dark.Sheila was never late. Not once in the two months we’d worked under the same unspoken code. Every night she’d send a check-in,encrypted, timed, with a failsafe command that only the two of us understood.Tonight, nothing.The last message I received from her was short, barely a line: *“Uploading final proof tonight. If I don’t respond within six hours,”*The rest of it had cut off.I’d tried the signal tracker three times, pinging her burner’s encryption key through every relay I had. No response. Not even static. Whoever had found her had either destroyed the phone or buried it somewhere far enough underground to make it vanish.The silence pressed into the small apartment like another person sitting in the room.I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my temples, staring at the monitors. Her files were still there,copies of Adrian Drake’s offshore accounts, medical rec
Vanessa’s POVThe mansion had never felt so heavy.Every clock ticked too loudly. Every shadow stretched too far. Even the air seemed to hum with something unseen—like the walls themselves were holding their breath.I couldn’t tell what frightened me more: the silence or the sound of my own heartbeat.Adrian hadn’t said a word to me in almost a day. He moved through the house like a ghost, muttering to himself, slamming doors, drinking at odd hours. His eyes were different now—sharper, darker, wild. I used to know how to read his moods, how to soothe him when his temper rose. But this time, I didn’t recognize him at all.He was a stranger wearing my husband’s face.Upstairs, the baby cried again. A shrill, restless sound that sliced through the silence. I hurried to the nursery, rocking him until his sobs quieted, pressing his tiny head against my chest.“Shh, it’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”But it wasn’t.The house wasn’t okay. Adrian wasn’t okay. None of it was.So







