Chapter 1
The front door clicked shut behind David Vance with an echo that felt entirely too loud in the quiet hallway. He stood in the entryway of his suburban home, the wheels of his wheeled suitcase resting softly on the hardwood floor. He wore a gold tuxedo jacket that still smelled faintly of expensive champagne and the crisp air of a luxury hotel ballroom in Manhattan. His crisp white button-down shirt was unbuttoned at the top collar, and his grey trousers carried the faint creases of a long trans-continental flight. For a moment, the thrill of the corporate gala still pulsed warmly through his veins. He had just closed the biggest multi-million-dollar acquisition of his career, securing a promotion that would cement his legacy in the firm.
He smiled brightly, his chest heaving with the natural rhythm of a man returning home triumphant. He expected the usual chaos of family life, the smell of dinner simmering on the stove, or the sound of cartoons playing on the living room television. He cleared his throat lightly, letting the wheels of his suitcase roll another inch forward as he called out into the open-concept space. His tone was buoyant, dripping with the affection of a father who had been away on business for far too long.
"Maya, we're back!" David announced, his voice carrying a cheerful cadence that bounced off the neutral-toned walls.
May you like
He waited for a beat, expecting Maya’s quick footsteps or little Lily running down the stairs to jump into his arms. Instead, the house answered him with a suffocating, heavy silence. The air inside felt dense, almost stagnant, carrying a peculiar, heavy scent that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It wasn't the smell of home-cooked food. It was the sharp, cloying perfume of white lilies, mixed with the distinct, metallic tang of melting wax.
David’s smile began to falter at the edges. His eyes darted across the empty foyer, scanning the living room area where the afternoon sun poured through the large bay windows, illuminating floating dust motes instead of a welcoming family. The gold jacket suddenly felt stiff and confining, its bright metallic sheen entirely out of place in the gathering shadows of the hallway. He swallowed hard, his breathing slowing down as a cold drop of sweat formed at his hairline. Something was fundamentally wrong with the house. He dropped the handle of his suitcase, letting it stand unsupported, and took two hesitant steps toward the living room archway, his gut twisting into a tight, agonizing knot.
