Chapter 4 - Echoes in the Vault
The face vanished before Julian could point his trembling finger upward. Detective Miller didn't see it; his eyes were fixed on the pocket watch swinging from the tip of his pencil. The ticking was agonizingly slow, each second dragging like an anchor through soft mud.
“A vault?” Julian repeated, the word tasting like copper and ash in his mouth. “My father was a civil engineer. He built additions, not vaults.”
“Not according to the county architect who signed off on the structural reinforcement,” Miller replied, tapping his temple. “Thick concrete behind those silk walls, Mr. Vance. Soundproof, too. You could scream bloody murder in that nursery, and nobody on the second floor would hear a whisper.”
A cold shiver raced down Julian’s spine, eclipsing the sweat on his neck. He thought of all the nights he had rocked his daughter to sleep in that exact room, believing the silence was just the mark of a peaceful countryside. It wasn't peace. It was isolation.
“We need to tear the walls down,” Julian said, his voice hardening into a desperate resolve. He shoved past the detective, marching back toward the heavy front doors.
“Mr. Vance, wait, forensics has to clear—”
“I don't give a damn about forensics!” Julian yelled, his boots pounding against the marble foyer. “That woman took my child into a house that was apparently built to keep secrets! I am going up there with or without your permission!”
The officers in the hallway parted instantly, intimidated by the terrifying, ragged fury in Julian’s eyes. He didn't wait for them. He took the stairs three at a time, his chest burning, his hands still bleeding slightly from where he had punched the monitor. When he reached the third-floor landing, the air pressure felt different—heavier, colder, smelling faintly of ozone and old parchment.
He slammed his shoulder against the silk-paneled wall where the bassinet had stood. It didn't yield. It felt like solid stone.
“Help me!” Julian screamed back down the stairwell, his voice bouncing off the high ceilings.
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Miller appeared a moment later, breathless, carrying a heavy brass fire extinguisher from the hallway wall. Without a word, the detective weighed it in his hand, nodded once, and swung it with all his might against the floral wallpaper.
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