Chapter 10
The heavy silence of the bedroom was broken only by the soft, ragged breathing of terrified Toby. Sarah was kneeling on the floor, whispering quiet, desperate reassurances into his ear, while David frantically searched the perimeter of the room for any hidden exit.
"There has to be a way out of here," David muttered, running his palms along the carved mahogany wainscoting near the fireplace. His fingers brushed against a protruding wood panel that felt slightly loose beneath his touch. He pressed down hard on the carved rose motif.
With a low, grinding groan of aged springs, a narrow vertical section of the wood-paneled wall clicked and popped open about an inch, revealing a dark, pitch-black cavity inside the wall. A draft of cold, damp air rushed out, carrying the scent of dust and old stone.
Sarah hurried over, gasping softly. "David... what is that?"
"It’s an old service staircase," David whispered, peering into the blackness with the light of his phone. The screen still had no cellular signal, but the flashlight function cast a weak, flickering beam down a steep, narrow flight of stone steps disappearing into the foundations of the house. "My father talked about these. The old estate was built during the prohibition era. Every room has a secondary route for servants—or escape."
"Can we fit?" Sarah asked, looking down at Toby, who was clutching his stuffed bear with wide, terrified eyes.
"We have to," David said, his voice resolute. "If we stay here, Vance and Sterling will come back in ten minutes and take Toby to the east wing. We aren't waiting for them."
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David stepped into the dark opening first, extending his hand backward to guide Sarah. Sarah hoisted Toby up into her arms, holding him securely against her chest as she stepped backward through the narrow wooden gap. The hidden panel swung shut behind them with a muffled thump, plunging them into absolute, suffocating darkness, broken only by the weak glow of David’s phone screen.
The stone stairs were slick with moisture and worn smooth by decades of forgotten footsteps. They crept downward in agonizing silence, every creak of their shoes sounding like a gunshot in the confined space. After descending what felt like stories beneath the main level of the mansion, the narrow staircase opened up into a damp, stone-walled cellar that smelled heavily of rich earth and old wine casks.
