Chapter 5
Both Chloe and Mark froze instantly, their breathing catching in their throats as the tapping sound repeated itself—once, twice, three rhythmic thuds moving slowly down the darkened corridor toward them. The red and blue police lights from outside chose that exact moment to flicker and die, plunging the entire hallway into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
Chloe’s hand shot out blindly in the dark, her fingers grasping the rough fabric of Mark’s sleeve as she pulled him backward against the wall. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird, each beat deafeningly loud in the sudden silence.
"Mark," she whispered, her voice barely a breath of air. "There's someone still inside."
"Stay behind me," Mark whispered back, his voice dropping an octave as he shifted his weight, putting himself squarely between Chloe and the dark expanse of the hallway.
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From the shadows near the master bedroom, a low, raspy chuckle broke the silence—a sound that belonged neither to Clara nor to any officer of the law. It was a cold, gravelly laugh that seemed to carry decades of malice and unfulfilled vengeance.
"You think Miller cleared the board, children?" a voice rasped out from the darkness, halting just a few feet away from where they stood. "The game was over before you even learned how to roll the dice."
