Chapter 7 - The Empty House
Claire slammed her fist against Mr. Palmer’s front door, the wood echoing loudly in the quiet night air.
“Mr. Palmer! Sophie!” Claire shouted, terror gripping her chest with iron claws.
There was no answer. The door was unlocked; it swung open with a soft creak under the pressure of her hand.
“Sophie!” Claire called out again, stepping into the dark entryway.
Officer Davis rushed up behind her, flashlight drawn and beam cutting through the shadows. The interior smelled faintly of old cedar and damp earth. They moved quickly through the living room, checking the kitchen and the downstairs hallway.
The house was completely empty. Not a single piece of furniture was out of place, but it lacked the lived-in warmth Claire remembered. There were no family photos on the walls, no mail on the counter, no signs that an elderly man had lived there for twenty years.
Davis walked over to a bookshelf and pulled on a heavy volume. With a mechanical click, a hidden door in the back of the hallway swung open, revealing a steep flight of concrete stairs leading downward into darkness.
“Stay behind me,” Davis ordered, flicking on his weapon-mounted light.
Claire ignored him, following closely behind as they descended into the basement.
The air grew colder. At the bottom of the stairs was a small, reinforced room lined with computer monitors, security feeds, and corkboards covered in photographs of every single resident on Maple Street.
Right in the center of the main screen was a live video feed of Mr. Palmer’s living room—the very room they had just left. And sitting on the sofa in the video, watching them through the hidden cameras, was Marcus.
Marcus turned his head toward the invisible lens, smiling faintly as he spoke directly into a microphone.
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“Welcome to the family basement, Claire,” Marcus’s voice echoed through the hidden room’s speakers. “You found the old man. Now let's see if you can find your daughter before the timer runs out.”
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