Chapter 9 - The Hidden Alcove
Arthur reacted instantly, sprinting down the narrow corridor toward the storage room with a speed that defied his heavy frame. Maya hoisted the long hem of her midnight-blue gown and followed right behind him, her heart pounding in her throat.
When they reached the back alcove, the sight waiting for them made Maya freeze in her tracks.
A large, antique mirror—one that had supposedly been bolted permanently to the rear wall of the boutique—was swung open on heavy iron hinges, revealing a dark, dust-filled brick staircase descending into the basement of the old building. Marcus was standing at the threshold, holding a heavy iron flashlight, coughing as a cloud of ancient dust settled around his shoulders.
"I didn't even know this door existed," Marcus muttered, shining the beam down into the pitch-black void. "The blueprints from the city registry didn't show any sub-level beneath this block."
Arthur didn't hesitate. He grabbed the flashlight from Marcus’s hand, his jaw set in a hard, uncompromising line. "Stay here with your mother," he told Maya, his voice flat and absolute.
"No," Maya said, stepping past him without a second thought. "She’s my sister. I'm going down there."
"Maya, listen to your father—" her mother started, but Maya was already descending the steep, crumbling brick steps, the cold air rising from the basement smelling of damp earth, old paper, and something metallic, like rust or blood.
The beam of the flashlight swept across the damp stone walls of the underground room. It wasn't a standard cellar. It was a makeshift office, filled with rows of metal filing cabinets, cardboard boxes stacked haphazardly against the mortar, and a single wooden desk in the center of the room.
And sitting right in the middle of that desk, staring blankly at a reel-to-reel tape player, was Mina.
Her grey patterned dress was smudged with soot and dust, and her long dark curly hair—though missing the lock left upstairs—was tangled around her shoulders. She didn't look up as Arthur and Maya stepped into the room.
"Mina," Arthur said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he lowered the flashlight. "What is this place? How did you know about this?"
May you like
Mina slowly turned her head, her eyes glassy and disconnected. She pointed a trembling finger at the tape player resting on the desk. "I didn't know it was here," she whispered, her voice hollow. "The house in my head… it told me where to look. Listen to it, Dad. Listen to what Grandpa recorded the night the house burned down."
---
