Chapter 6 - The Woman in the Red ScarfMrs. Holloway stepped slowly down the staircase.
Claire couldn't move.
“You've been spying on us?”
“Since Michael died.”
“You babysat Emma.”
“Yes.”
“You fed her.”
“Yes.”
“You held her when she cried.”
Mrs. Holloway smiled.
“That was the easiest part.”
Daniel raised his weapon.
“Who do you work for?”
She looked at him.
“You.”
Daniel frowned.
“What?”
“Your family.”
The words hit harder than a bullet.
Ethan whispered, “She's one of Father's handlers.”
Daniel's face went cold.
“You were in the house.”
Mrs. Holloway shrugged.
“For years.”
Claire's hands trembled.
“Did you hurt Emma?”
“No.”
She looked at the little girl.
“Never.”
“Then why?”
“Because your husband hid something inside your life.”
Mrs. Holloway reached into her coat.
Daniel fired.
The gunshot struck her hand.
She screamed.
A small metal object fell onto the steps.
A key.
Daniel stared.
“Another one.”
Mrs. Holloway laughed through the pain.
“You're getting close.”
“Close to what?”
“Your mother.”
Daniel froze.
“My mother is dead.”
Mrs. Holloway's smile widened.
“Is she?”
Claire looked at him.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Don't.”
“Your mother didn't die in that fire.”
Daniel's face drained of color.
“She survived.”
“No.”
“She was taken.”
“By whom?”
Mrs. Holloway answered:
“Your father.”
Daniel staggered backward.
Ethan looked equally shocked.
“Our father?”
“He needed leverage.”
Daniel's voice became a whisper.
“Where is she?”
Mrs. Holloway smiled.
“I'll never tell you.”
Daniel grabbed her collar.
“Then why mention her?”
“Because you finally care about something.”
She looked at Claire.
“And that's dangerous.”
Daniel released her.
A red laser dot appeared on his chest.
Then another.
Snipers.
Ethan tackled Daniel to the floor.
Windows shattered.
The mansion erupted in gunfire.
Claire grabbed Emma and ran.
They reached the basement.
Daniel followed.
Ethan slammed the steel door shut.
The bullets stopped.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Emma whispered:
“Mom?”
Claire hugged her.
“I'm here.”
Daniel looked at Ethan.
“What did she mean?”
“She meant Father kept our mother alive.”
“But why?”
Ethan stared at the floor.
“I don't know.”
Daniel noticed something.
A faint scratching sound behind the wall.
He approached.
Three knocks.
Then two.
Then three.
Ethan's eyes widened.
“I know that.”
“What?”
Ethan placed his hand against the wall.
Another knock.
Three.
Two.
Three.
“That was our mother's signal.”
Daniel began tearing at the old wooden panel.
“Help me.”
Ethan joined him.
The panel broke.
Behind it was a narrow hidden passage.
Cold air rushed through.
Claire whispered:
“What is that?”
Daniel looked into the darkness.
“A tunnel.”
They entered.
At the end was a locked steel door.
Daniel used the key.
It opened.
Inside was a small room.
A chair.
A table.
A mattress.
And on the wall were photographs.
Daniel's childhood.
Ethan's childhood.
Their mother.
And Emma.
Hundreds of photographs.
Taken over the years.
Claire stared.
“She watched Emma.”
Daniel found a camera on the table.
Still recording.
He pressed play.
A woman's voice came through the speakers.
“Daniel.”
He froze.
His mother's voice.
Older.
Weak.
Alive.
“I knew one day you would find this room.”
Daniel's eyes filled with tears.
The recording continued.
“Your father is dead.”
Ethan whispered, “He died eleven years ago.”
The voice answered:
“No.”
A pause.
Then:
“He has been pretending to be dead.”
Daniel stepped back.
Claire's blood ran cold.
May you like
The next sentence was worse.
“And he knows where Emma is.”
