Chapter 1 - You Found the Wrong Mommy
Ethan Carter heard Lily before he saw her.
Tiny bare feet slapped against the polished floor of the mansion hallway. He turned just as his four-year-old daughter came running toward him, tears streaming down her face.
She crashed into his legs.
“Lily... what happened?”
She couldn't answer.
Her whole body shook as Ethan lifted her against his chest. Instead of clinging to him, Lily grabbed his hand and pulled.
Hard.
Ethan followed.
She led him past the kitchen, through the service hallway, and toward a basement entrance Ethan rarely used.
Then farther down.
To a steel door he had never seen open.
Lily pounded against it.
“She’s in here!”
Ethan's stomach tightened.
The handle wasn't locked.
He pulled.
Cold air rolled outward.
One hanging lamp illuminated a concrete room.
And beneath it lay Emma.
His wife.
Wrists tied behind her back.
Bruised.
Exhausted.
Alive.
“Ethan...”
He rushed to her.
Lily threw herself into Emma's arms.
Ethan's hands shook as he reached for the restraints.
“Who did this?”
Emma didn't answer.
She stared over his shoulder.
Fear transformed her face.
“Don't turn around.”
Ethan began turning anyway.
Lily suddenly stopped crying.
Behind Ethan stood another small girl.
Light-blue dress.
Same dark-blonde curls.
Same height.
Same frightened little face.
For one impossible second, Ethan thought he was looking at Lily.
The girl smiled.
“Daddy... you found the wrong mommy.”
Emma made a broken sound.
“No.”
The light flickered.
Ethan spun fully around.
The girl was gone.
He ran to doorway.
Empty corridor.
No footsteps.
No second exit.
When police arrived, they searched every room.
Nothing.
Then paramedics treated Emma while detectives examined basement.
The ropes were ordinary utility cord from mansion workshop.
Emma had been missing for only six hours.
That was impossible to Ethan.
He had eaten breakfast with her.
Or believed he had.
Detective Laura Mitchell asked Emma when she last remembered being free.
“Last night.”
Ethan stared.
“You were downstairs this morning.”
Emma looked confused.
“No, I wasn't.”
“Yes, you were. You made Lily pancakes.”
Emma slowly looked toward Lily.
The child buried her face against Ethan.
Emma whispered:
“Ethan, I haven't seen Lily since yesterday afternoon.”
Silence.
Ethan remembered breakfast.
Emma’s cream sweater.
Her hair tied back.
A kiss on his cheek.
He had spoken to his wife for twenty minutes.
Yet Emma swore she was already imprisoned.
Then Lily finally lifted her head.
“The other mommy made pancakes.”
Ethan's blood ran cold.
“What other mommy?”
Lily pointed toward basement ceiling.
May you like
“The one who looks like Mommy.”
And somewhere inside the wall came three quiet knocks.
