Chapter 5 - THE MAN IN THE WALLRachel tried the steel door.
Locked.
I punched the keypad.
Nothing.
Then one of the monitors flickered back on.
A live camera feed appeared.
My living room.
Lily was there.
She was still asleep on the couch.
And someone was standing behind her.
A tall man in a black coat.
I ran to the door.
“Lily!”
Rachel caught my arm.
“There's another way.”
She pointed to the far wall.
A ventilation panel.
We ripped it open.
Behind it was a crawlspace.
I squeezed through first.
The tunnel was barely wide enough for my shoulders.
Rachel followed.
We emerged behind the fireplace.
The man was gone.
So was Lily.
Her blanket lay on the floor.
My blood froze.
“Lily!”
I ran through the house.
Front door locked.
Back door locked.
No windows open.
Then I heard a tiny voice.
“Daddy?”
The sound came from upstairs.
I sprinted up.
Lily was standing in the hallway.
She was holding a photograph.
“Where were you?”
She looked confused.
“A man took me.”
My stomach dropped.
“What man?”
“He said you wanted me.”
Rachel rushed upstairs.
“What did he look like?”
Lily pointed toward the photograph in her hand.
It was an old family portrait.
My father stood in the center.
Next to him was Evelyn.
And beside Evelyn was another man.
Older.
Bearded.
I stared.
“Who is that?”
Lily whispered:
“That was the man.”
I took the photograph.
Rachel suddenly stepped backward.
“No.”
“What?”
She pointed at the bearded man.
“That is my father.”
I looked at her.
“You said your father died.”
“He did.”
“No.”
Rachel's hands shook.
“He disappeared when Claire and I were nine.”
Lily looked at her.
“He told me his name.”
“What was it?”
She answered:
“Thomas.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
Thomas Vance.
Claire's father.
The man supposedly dead for twenty-two years.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice spoke calmly.
“You finally found the room.”
“Where is Claire?”
A pause.
“Closer than you think.”
“Give her to me.”
“You can't save her.”
“Try me.”
The man laughed softly.
Then said:
“Ask Rachel what happened to her sister when they were children.”
The call ended.
I turned toward Rachel.
She was crying.
“Rachel?”
She shook her head.
“I can't.”
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“What happened?”
“I killed her.”
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