Chapter 6: The Service Staircase Ambush
The cold steel barrel swept past the pantry frame below, disappearing into the shadows of the ground-floor hallway. Claire’s heart slammed against her ribs like a trapped bird, each beat echoing loudly in her own ears. She pulled Noah tighter against her chest, making sure his breathing was muffled against her shoulder, while Lily pressed her small face so hard into Claire’s hip that her nose practically touched the white knit fabric of Claire’s sweater.
They had seconds before the intruders realized the bedrooms upstairs were empty.
Carefully, meticulously, Claire pulled her foot back from the step, retreating inch by inch up the narrow wooden riser until she and the children were back on the second-floor landing. The service stairs were a dead end if the lower exit was compromised, which meant she had to find another way out of the main house before the sweep reached the upper level.
Her gaze darted toward the attic access hatch set into the ceiling above the linen closet. It was an old-fashioned pulldown ladder, painted to match the drywall, rarely used except for seasonal storage.
If she could get the kids up into the dark crawlspace, they might have a temporary hiding spot. But attic spaces had no secondary exits; if the intruders checked the ceiling hatch, they would be trapped like rats in a cage.
Still, staying in the hallway was a guaranteed death sentence.
Reaching up with her free hand, Claire caught the latch of the attic access door and gave it a sharp, firm tug. The wooden panel swung down with a dry, protesting groan, and the heavy metal-and-wood folding ladder dropped toward the floor with a clatter that sounded to Claire like a falling boulder.
Downstairs, the heavy footsteps instantly stopped.
“Did you hear that?” a harsh, raspy voice called out from the living room.
“Upstairs. Service landing,” a second voice barked back.
Panic surged through Claire’s veins. She didn’t have time to be quiet anymore. Adrenaline took over, overriding her fear. She shoved Lily toward the ladder. “Climb, Lily! Climb up as fast as you can, don’t look down, just keep going!”
The seven-year-old, terrified by the sudden urgency in her aunt’s voice, scrambled onto the wooden rungs like a frightened squirrel, her small hands pulling her upward into the dusty darkness of the attic.
Claire followed right behind her, balancing Noah with one arm while using her other hand and her boots to haul herself up the ladder. Just as her head cleared the attic floorboards, the thunderous sound of heavy boots storming up the service staircase echoed through the hallway below.
May you like
“They’re heading up! Cut them off!”
Claire scrambled onto the rough plywood flooring of the attic, dropping Noah safely onto a pile of old winter coats. She spun around, reaching out to grab the bottom rung of the folding ladder to pull it up, but before her fingers could wrap around the wood, a gloved hand shot up from the landing below, gripping the metal hinge with brutal force and jerking the ladder downward.
