Chapter 3

Investigation

"About who I really am?" My voice came out thin. Scared. "I don't understand..."

"The investigator just sent me your file." Derrick's chair moved even closer. I could feel the heat of him now. "You're not just some blind girl who wandered to my gate by accident, are you?"

"I am! I swear..."

"Your name isn't just Lana. It's Lana Hartley."

The name hit me like cold water. I hadn't heard my full name spoken aloud in years.

"How did you..."

"Does the name Marcus Hartley mean anything to you?"

My chest tightened. "That... that was my father."

"Was?"

"He died. In the same fire that took my sight. Why are you asking me this?"

Derrick was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice had changed. Gone flat. Empty. "Your father worked for my company. Fifteen years ago."

The room tilted. "What?"

"He was an engineer. One of the best we had. Until he wasn't."

"I don't... I don't know anything about that. I was just a child..."

"Your father stole from me, Lana. He sold proprietary designs to our competitors. Cost my company millions. Nearly destroyed everything my family built."

"No." I shook my head hard. "No, my father wouldn't..."

"The evidence was clear. He confessed. And then..." Derrick stopped.

"And then what?"

"And then there was a fire. At your family's house. Everyone died. Everyone except you."

Tears burned behind my eyes. "You think I had something to do with what my father did? I was seven years old!"

"I think coincidences don't exist. I think you showing up at my gate, with my dead sister's ID card, singing like an angel... I think someone sent you."

"No one sent me! I don't even remember my father's face! I don't remember anything except pain and darkness and waking up alone!"

My voice broke on the last word. I was crying now, unable to stop it.

"Please..." I whispered. "Please just let me go. I'll leave. You'll never see me again..."

"No."

"What?"

"You're not leaving." His voice was steel. Final. "You'll stay here. In this house. Until I figure out what's really going on."

"This is insane..."

"This is necessary."

"It's kidnapping!"

"Call it what you want." The whir of his chair moved away. "You'll have everything you need. Food. Clothes. A comfortable room. But you don't leave. Not until I say so."

"You can't do this..."

"I already have."

The door opened. Closed. He was gone.

I sat there, shaking, the tears running hot down my face.

This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

But it was.

...

They moved me to a different room that afternoon.

"It's more comfortable," the older woman said. The same one from breakfast. Her name was Margaret, she told me. She'd been with the Cole family for thirty years.

"It's still a cage," I said quietly.

Margaret sighed. "Mr. Cole... he's not a bad man, dear. He's just..."

"A monster?"

"Broken."

I didn't respond. What was I supposed to say to that?

The new room was bigger. I could tell by the echo of my footsteps. The bed was enormous... I lay across it and couldn't reach both sides. There was a bathroom attached. A closet full of clothes that weren't mine.

It was beautiful, I'm sure.

It was also a prison.

...

That evening, they brought me to him again.

"Sing," he said. Like it was a command. Like I was his pet.

"No."

Silence. Heavy. Dangerous.

"What did you say?"

"I said no." My hands were shaking but I kept my voice steady. "I'm not your entertainment. I'm not your prisoner. I'm a person."

"You'll sing."

"Why? So you can feel something? So you can pretend for five minutes that you're not alone in this giant empty house?"

I heard him inhale sharply. I'd hit something. Something raw.

"You know nothing about me..."

"I know you're cruel. I know you're keeping me here against my will because of something my father supposedly did when I was a child. I know you're using me for something... I just don't know what yet."

The chair moved. Fast. Sudden. It stopped right in front of me.

"You want to know what you are to me?" His voice was low. Almost a whisper. But it cut like a blade. "You're a ghost. You're every question I've had for fifteen years. You're the voice that makes me feel alive for the first time since the accident that put me in this chair. And I hate you for it."

My breath caught.

"So yes," he continued. "You'll sing. Because when you sing, the pain stops. And I'll do whatever it takes to make the pain stop. Do you understand?"

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move.

"Do you understand, Lana?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Good. Now sing."

So I did.

I sang until my throat hurt. Until the tears came again. Until I felt empty.

And when I finished, I heard something I didn't expect.

Him. Crying.

Just one sound. Barely audible. But I heard it.

"You can go," he said hoarsely.

Margaret came and led me back to my room.

...

I waited until midnight.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. I could hear my own heartbeat.

I'd spent the evening learning the layout of my room. Counting steps. Memorizing the path to the door. Then the hallway. Then the stairs.

If I could just get outside... if I could just get past the gates...

I opened the door slowly. Listened. No footsteps. No voices.

I stepped into the hallway.

Ten steps to the left. Then straight. Twenty steps to the staircase.

I counted in my head, my hand trailing along the wall.

The stairs were hard. I had to go slow. One step at a time.

Halfway down, I heard something. A shuffle. A cough.

I froze.

"Who's there?" A man's voice. One of the guards.

I didn't answer. Didn't breathe.

"Hello?"

Footsteps. Coming closer.

I turned and ran back up the stairs. Fast. Too fast. I stumbled. My knee hit the edge of a step. Pain shot through my leg but I kept going.

I heard him behind me now. Running.

"Stop! Don't move!"

I reached the top of the stairs. Turned left. Or was it right? I'd lost count. Lost direction.

A hand grabbed my arm.

"Got her!"

More footsteps. More voices.

"Bring her back to her room..."

"No! Wait! Someone call Mr. Cole..."

"It's the middle of the night..."

"I don't care! Call him now!"

They dragged me back. I didn't fight. There was no point.

They put me in my room and locked the door. Actually locked it this time. I heard the bolt slide into place.

I sank onto the floor, my back against the bed, and buried my face in my hands.

...

Alarms.

Loud. Piercing. Everywhere.

I jerked my head up. How long had I been sitting there? Minutes? Hours?

Footsteps thundered in the hallway. Voices shouted. The alarms kept screaming.

Then I heard it.

The whir of his chair. Fast. Urgent.

"Where is she?" Derrick's voice cut through the chaos.

"In her room, sir. We caught her on the stairs..."

"She tried to escape?"

"Yes, sir."

Silence. The alarms suddenly cut off. The quiet was deafening.

"Show me the security footage."

More footsteps. Moving away.

I pressed my ear against the door. I could hear them in the distance. A room nearby. Voices low and urgent.

Then Derrick spoke. Clear. Cold. Terrifying.

"If she steps outside those gates... she dies."

My blood turned to ice.

"Sir?" One of the guards sounded shocked.

"You heard me. The moment she crosses that threshold, you put her down. I don't care how. Just make sure she doesn't leave this property alive."

"But sir... she's just..."

"I don't care what she is. She knows too much. She's seen too much. She doesn't leave. Ever."

My whole body was shaking now.

What had I gotten myself into?

Who was this man?

And why did his voice... even now... even saying those horrible things... why did it still make something in my chest ache?

I crawled back to the bed and pulled the blankets over myself.

Outside my door, I heard a guard take position.

I was trapped.

Truly trapped.

And for the first time since this nightmare began... I wondered if I'd ever get out alive.