Chapter 11 - The Vance Manor
The flatbed truck rolled into the outskirts of the wealthy northern suburbs just past midnight. Sarah dropped from the rear bumper into the shadows of a manicured hedge, shivering violently. Her clothes were soaked in freezing mud, her lips blue, but the adrenaline surging through her veins burned hotter than a fever.
Ahead of her stood the Vance estate—a massive, iron-gated stone mansion perched on a private hill. Security cameras swept the perimeter walls, but Sarah had lived with Ethan's family dynamics long enough to know the estate's blind spots.
She slipped through the service entrance near the greenhouse, where an old iron latch had been broken for years.
The house was dead quiet. The soft, ambient landscape lighting illuminated the sprawling gardens, casting long, menacing shadows across the lawn. Through the massive bay windows of the ground-floor study, Sarah could see Ethan sitting alone, his head buried in his hands, an empty whiskey tumbler on the desk beside him.
He was drowning in grief, completely blind to the snake coiled inside his family's nest.
Sarah crept along the perimeter wall, heading for the terrace below the second-floor guest suite. That was where Evelyn always kept visiting infants—isolated, quiet, and easily controlled.
Using the stone trellises of the ivy wall, Sarah climbed up, her torn fingers screaming with pain as she gripped the wet masonry. Her boots slipped twice, but she refused to fall. She reached the balcony, pulling herself over the marble balustrade.
The French doors were unlocked.
Sarah stepped softly into the darkened room. The air was heavy with the scent of lavender and baby powder.
In the center of the room, illuminated by a faint nightlight, was an antique carved crib.
Sarah moved like a ghost, her bare feet leaving wet prints on the plush carpet. She leaned over the crib, her heart seizing.
Lily was there. Her breathing was dangerously shallow, her small chest barely rising and falling. Her skin was unnaturally pale, and a dried crust of clear fluid marked the corner of her lips.
"Lily..." Sarah sobbed silently, reaching down to scoop her child into her arms.
"I wouldn't move her if I were you, Sarah," a voice whispered from the darkness of the doorway.
Sarah froze.
May you like
Evelyn stepped into the pale light, wearing a tailored robe, holding a small silver syringe. Behind her, Ethan stepped into the doorway, his eyes wide and vacant with shock.
---
