Chapter 2 - Grace’s GhostEthan locked the bedroom door.
The mansion suddenly felt unfamiliar.
It had always been enormous, cold, and expensive. Forty rooms, polished marble floors, antique paintings, security cameras in every corridor.
Tonight it felt like a trap.
He opened Grace’s old message thread again.
Most of it was ordinary.
Grocery lists.
Pictures of their dog.
A reminder about his mother’s birthday.
Then, three weeks before Grace’s death:
Ethan, if anything happens to me, don’t trust Claire.
He stared at the sentence until his vision blurred.
Why had he forgotten this?
Because he had wanted to.
Grief had made him desperate for something simple.
Grace was dead.
Claire had been there.
Claire had helped him survive.
That story had been easier to believe.
He searched the message thread again.
Nothing.
Then he noticed something strange.
One message had been deleted.
He opened the account information.
Someone had accessed Grace’s cloud storage six days after her funeral.
Ethan’s stomach dropped.
He immediately called his chief of security.
“Tom?”
Tom Barrett answered on the second ring.
“Sir?”
“Pull the access logs from Grace’s accounts.”
“Which accounts?”
“All of them.”
Tom hesitated.
“Sir, that may take time.”
“Then take the time.”
Ethan ended the call.
A knock sounded.
He spun around.
Claire stood outside the locked door.
“Ethan?”
He said nothing.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Why is the door locked?”
“I wanted privacy.”
There was a pause.
“You've been acting strangely all day.”
Ethan stared at the doorknob.
“Have I?”
“Yes.”
Then she laughed softly.
“Maybe you should drink your tea and get some sleep.”
Ethan’s blood turned cold.
He hadn't told her the cup was still downstairs.
He opened the door.
Claire stood there holding a second cup.
A white porcelain cup this time.
“No blue cup?” Ethan asked.
For the first time, her face changed.
“What?”
“The blue one downstairs.”
She smiled.
“I don’t know what you're talking about.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“Really?”
Claire raised the cup.
“I brought you chamomile.”
He looked at it.
Then at her.
“I'm not thirsty.”
Her eyes hardened for a fraction of a second.
Then she smiled again.
“You need rest.”
She placed the cup on the table.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Claire turned.
Ethan watched her walk away.
Then he noticed something.
Her right hand was trembling.
Not much.
Barely.
But it was.
He waited until she disappeared.
Then he walked downstairs.
The blue cup was gone.
His pulse quickened.
He searched the kitchen.
Nothing.
“Looking for this?”
Maria’s voice came from behind him.
Ethan turned.
She stood beside the sink.
The blue cup was in her hand.
“I found it in the trash,” she whispered.
“Why was it there?”
Maria looked terrified.
“Because someone threw it away after you refused to drink it.”
Ethan took the cup.
There was a faint white residue at the bottom.
“Did you wash it?”
“No.”
“Good.”
His phone vibrated.
Tom.
Ethan answered.
“Tell me.”
Tom's voice was low.
“Sir, I found something.”
“What?”
“Grace’s cloud account was accessed after her funeral.”
“By whom?”
A pause.
“Claire Whitmore.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“What else?”
“There's more.”
“What?”
“The account was accessed again three months later.”
“By Claire?”
“No.”
Tom swallowed.
“It was accessed using your credentials.”
Ethan froze.
“My credentials?”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
Tom replied quietly.
“Sir…”
“What?”
“Someone was using your account while you were in Switzerland.”
Ethan remembered that trip.
He had been there for twelve days.
Claire had stayed home.
His stomach turned.
“Send me everything.”
Tom hesitated.
“There's one more thing.”
“What?”
“The second login occurred less than twenty-four hours before Grace died.”
Ethan looked toward the staircase.
Suddenly the entire mansion felt like it was holding its breath.
Then the lights went out.
All of them.
May you like
And somewhere in the darkness…
a child screamed.
