Chapter 7 - Claire never heard the first shot.The bullet struck the wall beside her head.
She turned.
The second shot shattered the lamp.
Security reacted instantly.
“GET DOWN!”
Claire dropped behind the desk.
Three armed men entered through the servants' corridor.
The estate exploded into gunfire.
Claire crawled toward the emergency exit.
A guard grabbed her.
“Mrs. Bennett, this way.”
She looked at him.
“Who sent them?”
“We don't know.”
But as they ran, Claire saw something.
The guard's sleeve.
A small black circle.
The same symbol as the pendant.
She stopped.
“You're one of them.”
The man turned.
Too late.
Claire struck him with the fire extinguisher.
He collapsed.
She ran.
Behind her, men shouted.
She reached the kitchen.
Locked.
Claire pulled a knife from the drawer.
Her hands shook.
She had never fought anyone.
She had spent three years cleaning floors, washing dishes, folding clothes.
But her daughter was missing.
Something inside her had changed.
She was no longer afraid.
The back door burst open.
Marcus Hale entered.
Claire pointed the knife.
“Stay away from me.”
Marcus smiled.
“You always were smarter than people thought.”
Claire stared.
“You took Lily.”
“No.”
“You helped them.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Marcus walked closer.
“Because I spent five years serving Grant.”
His face hardened.
“And five years watching his father destroy people.”
Claire shook her head.
“He wasn't the monster.”
Marcus laughed.
“You don't know what he did.”
“Then tell me.”
Marcus lowered his weapon.
“Grant's father ordered Evelyn's death.”
Claire froze.
“No.”
“He thought she had betrayed him.”
“She escaped.”
“No.”
Marcus looked away.
“She was captured.”
Claire whispered:
“Then where is she?”
Marcus stared at her.
“She survived.”
Claire's heart stopped.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
Marcus suddenly grabbed Claire's wrist.
“Listen to me.”
“What?”
“The people who took Lily aren't the Black Veil.”
Claire stared.
“What?”
Marcus leaned closer.
“The Black Veil is protecting her.”
Silence.
Claire didn't understand.
Marcus continued.
“The people holding your daughter are inside Grant's own family.”
Before Claire could answer, a shot rang out.
Marcus jerked.
Blood spread across his chest.
He fell.
Claire screamed.
A sniper had shot him through the kitchen window.
Claire ran.
She didn't know where to go.
Then she remembered something Lily had said.
“He doesn't like him.”
Atlas had been growling at Marcus.
But Atlas had also protected Lily from the kidnappers.
Maybe the dog had known the difference between them.
Claire grabbed the old radio from the security desk.
“Atlas.”
No response.
She tried again.
“Atlas.”
Static.
Then one bark.
Three times.
Claire's eyes widened.
Three barks.
She knew where he was.
The old chapel.
She ran.
Inside, Atlas stood beneath the altar.
Blood covered his side.
But he was alive.
Claire knelt beside him.
“Where is Lily?”
Atlas looked toward the underground stairs.
Claire followed.
At the bottom, she found a room.
A map covered the wall.
Dozens of locations were marked.
One location had a photograph of Lily.
Another had a photograph of Grant.
And in the center was one name.
BLACKTHORNE SANATORIUM.
Claire knew the place.
It had been abandoned for fifteen years.
Evelyn had once been treated there.
Claire picked up a file.
Inside was a photograph.
Lily's mother.
Alive.
Taken only six months ago.
On the back:
SUBJECT IS WATCHING.
Claire's hands trembled.
“She’s alive.”
Then the lights came on.
A woman stood at the entrance.
Long dark hair.
Scar across her cheek.
Claire stared.
The woman's eyes filled with tears.
“You finally found me.”
Claire could barely speak.
“Evelyn?”
The woman nodded.
“Yes.”
Claire stepped backward.
“Lily's mother.”
Evelyn's voice broke.
“My daughter.”
Claire ran toward her.
But Evelyn stopped her.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because the person who took Lily is coming here.”
“Who?”
Evelyn looked terrified.
Then whispered:
“Grant's father.”
A slow sound echoed from the tunnel.
Footsteps.
One.
Two.
Three.
Evelyn pulled Claire behind her.
Atlas rose.
His teeth showed.
A man's voice floated through the darkness.
“Evelyn.”
May you like
The footsteps stopped.
“You were always difficult to kill.”
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