Chapter 3 - The Door Behind the Wine CellarThomas Left Something Breathing in the Dark
We reached the wine cellar at 1:17 a.m.
Hollow Pine slept above us.
Or pretended to.
The cellar was older than the resort itself. Stone walls. Iron racks. Dust-covered bottles. A narrow hallway behind the main storage room led toward the abandoned east wing.
The old corridor.
Mara held the brass key.
Vince stood behind us with his weapon drawn.
I hated the feeling in my chest.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Thomas and I used to hide here as children.
Our father called it the safest room in the house.
That had always seemed funny.
Now it didn't.
Mara touched the wall.
“Here.”
I frowned.
“What?”
She pressed her palm against the stone.
“It's hollow.”
Vince examined it.
Then found a hairline seam behind a rack of wine.
We moved the rack.
A steel door appeared.
No handle.
Only a brass keyhole shaped like a pine tree.
Mara inserted the key.
Click.
The door opened.
Cold air rushed out.
Behind it was a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
I looked at Vince.
“Was this on the original property plans?”
“No.”
“Then someone built it later.”
Mara stepped inside.
“Daniel said Thomas used it.”
“How would Daniel know?”
“Because Thomas brought him here.”
My stomach tightened.
We descended.
Twenty-six steps.
Then a long concrete hallway.
At the end stood a room filled with old monitors.
Dozens.
Maybe hundreds.
Most were dead.
One was still working.
The screen showed the private hot spring.
Live.
My face appeared on it.
Mara's.
Vince's.
I looked up.
There were cameras hidden throughout the pavilion.
We had been watched from the moment we entered.
Then another monitor flickered.
The image changed.
Fourteen months earlier.
Rain.
A black SUV.
Thomas.
My breath caught.
We watched him get out.
Then another man approached.
I couldn't see his face.
Thomas handed him an envelope.
The man grabbed him.
Thomas fought back.
Then I saw myself.
Running toward the car.
The memory hit me like a hammer.
I had forgotten this part.
I hadn't arrived after the crash.
I'd arrived before it.
I had been there.
I watched my younger self stumble toward Thomas.
The video cut out.
I backed away from the monitor.
“No.”
Mara turned.
“You remember?”
“I remember the crash.”
“You don't remember this.”
“No.”
Vince stared at the screen.
“Someone altered your memory.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You think that's possible?”
Mara answered quietly.
“Not your memory.”
She pointed to the screen.
“The recording.”
The room went silent.
She zoomed in.
At the moment I appeared, the video jumped.
Three seconds were missing.
Exactly three.
Mara looked at me.
“That is when something happened.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
A sound came from behind us.
Metal scraping stone.
We turned.
The door at the top of the stairs had closed.
Vince ran to it.
Locked.
“Someone locked us in.”
I looked around.
Then saw a red light blinking beside a monitor.
A microphone.
I picked it up.
“Whoever is listening,” I said, “you made one mistake.”
The light stopped blinking.
I smiled.
“You forgot I own the building.”
Nothing happened.
Then a voice came through the speaker.
Distorted.
Male.
“You don't own Hollow Pine.”
My smile disappeared.
“Who are you?”
“You've spent fourteen months thinking your brother died protecting you.”
A pause.
“He died because you were supposed to.”
Mara's face drained of color.
The voice continued.
“Ask your security chief why Thomas changed the beneficiary of the trust three days before he died.”
Vince went rigid.
I looked at him.
“You knew?”
He didn't answer.
I stepped forward.
“Vince.”
He finally whispered:
“Thomas left everything to Mara.”
May you like
The lights went out.
And somewhere beneath the floor, a generator started.
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