Chapter 5 - Midnight Footsteps
Dominic ordered every lock in the north wing changed.
Mrs. Hargrove objected.
He ignored her.
By afternoon, two locksmiths had opened the red door.
Inside was nothing dramatic.
At least not at first.
A chair.
A narrow bed.
A cabinet.
A small television mounted high on the wall.
No windows.
Dominic stepped inside.
"What was this room?"
Mrs. Hargrove answered from the doorway.
"A private sensory room."
"For Noah?"
"After the accident."
Dominic turned.
"I never authorized this."
"You were burying your wife."
The sentence landed cruelly.
Mrs. Hargrove continued.
"Dr. Calder believed reduced stimulation would help the boy."
Clara touched the wall.
There were scratches near the floor.
Small ones.
At child height.
Dominic saw them.
"How long was he kept here?"
"No one was kept anywhere."
Mrs. Hargrove's composure cracked for the first time.
"It was therapy."
Clara opened the cabinet.
Empty medicine bottles stood in the back.
Labels had been removed.
She picked one up.
Mrs. Hargrove moved quickly.
"Don't touch that."
Dominic stepped between them.
"Why?"
"It may contain residue."
"Of what?"
Silence.
Dominic pulled out his phone.
"Send a medical team."
That night, Clara slept badly.
At 2:13 a.m., footsteps woke her.
Slow.
Measured.
Outside her room.
She sat up.
The footsteps continued toward Noah's bedroom.
Clara opened her door.
A shadow disappeared around the corner.
She followed.
Noah's door was open.
His bed was empty.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"Noah?"
No answer.
She checked the bathroom.
Empty.
Then she heard a soft sound inside the wardrobe.
Clara opened it carefully.
Noah was curled beneath hanging shirts.
His hands covered his ears.
"It's me."
He looked at her.
Clara stayed outside the wardrobe.
"Did someone come in?"
Noah nodded.
"Who?"
His mouth trembled.
He lifted one hand and touched his throat.
Where Mrs. Hargrove wore her brooch.
Clara felt cold.
Then Noah pointed beneath his mattress.
She pulled out a small object wrapped in tissue.
A pearl.
Not fake.
A real pearl torn from something.
Clara stared at it.
Noah whispered, "Bad."
It was the second word he had spoken.
Clara looked toward the open bedroom door.
Someone had been inside.
May you like
And whoever it was had realized Noah was beginning to talk.
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