Chapter 8 - The Portrait in the Attic
Arthur stared at the faded photograph in Clara's hand, the familiar features of the man in the image staring back at him with an unsettling, mirror-like precision.
"That's a coincidence," Arthur said, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears. "Lighting angles, facial structure—people can look similar without there being any bizarre connection."
"The name on the deed, Arthur, was Arthur Vance," Clara said quietly, letting the words hang in the heavy air of the hallway like a sentence being read aloud in a courtroom. "The exact same name, the exact same birthdate, and the exact same signature registered with the county recorder's office a decade before we ever met."
Maya and Leo stood watching them in silence, too confused and frightened to interrupt the tense exchange.
"It's a clerical error in the municipal database," Arthur lied, his voice rising in panic as he backed away toward the front door. "Names get duplicated during digital migrations all the time. You know how inefficient local government systems are."
"You haven't been to your office downtown in three days, have you?" Clara asked, taking a slow step toward him. "I called your firm this morning. They said you took an indefinite leave of absence six months ago, right around the time we moved into this neighborhood."
Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. The lies he had built his entire life around were fracturing under the weight of undeniable proof.
"Why?" Clara whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Why did you buy this house, Arthur? What happened to the family that lived here before?"
May you like
Before Arthur could answer, a loud, metallic crash echoed from the upper floor, sounding as though an entire bookcase had been violently overturned in the master bedroom directly above their heads.
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