Chapter 2 - The Phantom in the Blueprint
Mark slammed his fist against the drywall, the plaster cracking under the force of his sudden rage. "Maya, listen to me very carefully. When did you first hear her? How long has this been going on?" His breath came in ragged gasps, illuminated only by the dying glow of the fallen flashlight. Elena stepped forward, her bare feet silencing her movement as she grabbed Mark's shoulder, spinning him around to face her. "No more lies, Mark. We bought this house ten years ago. It was a blank slate. There was no room behind that wall on any blueprint. Who is she?" she demanded, her voice rising toward hysteria. Mark refused to meet her eyes, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle twitched violently in his cheek. He looked down at the white plate resting on the rug, half-eaten toast sliding into the dust. Maya pointed a trembling finger at the framed family photo hanging crookedly beside the door—a picture taken during happier summers, before the debt, before the silent arguments that had hollowed out our marriage. "She talks to me through the vent in the nursery, Mom. She says Daddy brings her food when we are asleep," Maya whispered, her innocent eyes wide with a terror that defied her young age. Mark let out a harsh, bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob, dragging his palms down his face. "I had to protect you. You have no idea what they would have done to us if they found out," he muttered, backing away toward the stairs. Elena's breath hitched as she connected the fragmented pieces of a puzzle she never wanted to solve. "Who is 'they', Mark? What did you do?" Before Mark could answer, the wooden frame of the family photo cracked down the center, the glass shattering over the floor as a small, frantic scratching sound emanated from directly behind the wallpaper.
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