Chapter 6 - The Visitor at Midnight
The pounding on the heavy oak front door grew frantic, rattling the stained-glass transom above the entryway. Sarah froze, her bare feet glued to the kitchen threshold. The digital voice recorder in her pocket felt heavy, like a ticking detonator. She looked down at Evelyn, who remained sprawled amid the ruined white cake, her slate-grey eyes glinting with a terrifying, triumphant certainty.
"Open it, Sarah," Evelyn hissed from the floor, her voice laced with malicious glee. "Go on. See what happens when you try to play detective in a world you don't own."
Sarah ignored her. She backed silently into the shadows of the kitchen, her mind racing. The back door led out to the overgrown garden, but the perimeter fence was locked with a heavy iron padlock that required a key Evelyn kept on a brass ring around her neck. Trapped.
Crash!
The sound of splintering wood echoed from the foyer as the front door gave way under a brutal kick. Heavy footsteps thudded across the imported tile, accompanied by the low, raspy breathing of someone who was neither a police officer nor a welcome guest.
"Evelyn?" a rough, unfamiliar voice called out, cutting through the silence of the grand house. "Where’s the girl? The retainer cleared, so I expect the rest upfront before the cops make their rounds again."
Sarah pressed her back against the cool marble counter, holding her breath. Baby Lily’s eyes wide and tear-filled, buried her tiny face against Sarah’s chest, sensing the suffocating terror in the room.
From the dining room floor, Evelyn let out a sharp, commanding cough. "In here, Marcus. And watch your step—the idiot broke the cake."
A tall man in a dark, hooded canvas jacket stepped into the archway of the dining room. He carried a heavy metal crowbar in his right hand, the tip stained with fresh grey paint from the forced doorframe. He looked down at Evelyn sprawled in the frosting, then slowly turned his head toward the kitchen, his cold, weathered eyes locking directly onto Sarah.
"Well, well," Marcus said, a slow, ugly grin spreading across his stubbled face as he hefted the crowbar. "Looks like we have a stowaway."
Sarah’s hand dropped into her pocket, her thumb frantically searching for the emergency speed-dial button she had programmed for Connor’s attorney. But before her finger could press the glass screen, Marcus closed the distance with terrifying speed, his heavy boot catching the edge of the kitchen mat and sending him lunging forward to block her only exit.
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"Not so fast, sweetheart," Marcus snarled, raising the crowbar. "Evelyn says we need to erase a few files before the authorities return."
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