Chapter 6 - The Rusted Iron
The glint of the rusted iron crowbar caught the pale afternoon light, reflecting a sharp, jagged edge of violence across the living room wall. Mark froze mid-step, his arms dropping to his sides.
"Thomas, put that down," Mark pleaded, his voice laced with sudden terror. "We can fix this. We can sell the house, split the money, do whatever you want."
"Money?" Thomas let out another hollow, rattling laugh. "You think I want your dirty money, Mark? I want time. I want the twenty years you stole from my life."
"You can't turn back the clock," Sarah said, her voice steady despite the trembling in her limbs. She gently set Lily down, pointing toward the open front door. "Lily, sweetie, walk out to the sidewalk right now. Don't look back, just go."
"Mommy, I'm scared," Lily sobbed, backing away toward the exit.
"Go!" Sarah commanded softly.
Lily turned and bolted through the open doorway, her small sneakers pounding against the concrete porch. Thomas watched her go, a softening in his hollow blue eyes that mirrored Mark's own features.
"She has our mother's eyes," Thomas murmured, lowering the crowbar an inch. "I heard her laughing through the floorboards last summer. That was the only thing that kept me breathing."
"Just let us call for help, Thomas," Sarah urged, taking a cautious step forward. "You need medical attention. You can't survive down there."
"I haven't survived, Sarah," Thomas replied bitterly. "I've just been haunting a corpse."
Before Sarah could respond, the sound of police sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second. Mark's head snapped toward the window, panic flooding his face.
"You called them?" Mark hissed at Sarah.
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"I didn't have to," Sarah said coldly. "The neighbor's smart doorbell records audio. It picked up every word of your confession."
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