Chapter 1 - The Match Lily Dropped
The flame touched the wet wood.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Then orange light raced across the top of the hatch.
Lily stepped backward.
Below her, Ethan struck the wood with both fists.
“LILY!”
His voice came through the floor distorted and desperate.
Beside him, Claire screamed.
Lily stood completely still.
The little girl who had been frightened by a woman’s moan less than a minute earlier was gone.
Her cheeks were still wet.
Her braids were still neat.
But her large brown eyes reflected the fire without blinking.
“Now you pay for what you done.”
Ethan stopped pounding.
Not gradually.
Instantly.
Claire noticed.
“Ethan?”
He stared upward.
“What did she say?”
Claire grabbed his arm.
“We have to get out!”
But Ethan’s face had changed.
Not simply because his eight-year-old daughter had trapped him beneath a burning hatch.
Because he recognized the sentence.
Lily had said it incorrectly.
What you done.
Exactly the way another person used to say it.
Ethan whispered:
“Anna.”
Claire froze.
“What?”
He did not answer.
Smoke began slipping through the seams.
Ethan searched the hidden room.
Concrete walls.
Old shelves.
One rusted vent.
No obvious second exit.
Claire coughed.
“Who’s Anna?”
Ethan grabbed a metal chair and struck the vent cover.
Once.
Twice.
It bent.
Above them, Lily crouched near the flames.
Her strange smile had disappeared.
Now she was listening.
Waiting.
Then—
three knocks sounded beneath her.
Not Ethan’s frantic pounding.
Three measured knocks.
Pause.
Two.
Pause.
Three.
Lily’s expression changed.
She whispered toward the hatch:
“Mommy?”
Below, Ethan heard her.
His face lost all color.
Claire stared at him.
“Her mother is alive?”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
Claire noticed.
“Ethan.”
He struck the vent again.
“Her mother died.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
Another blow.
The vent broke free.
Behind it was a narrow maintenance tunnel.
Fresh air.
Ethan pushed Claire toward it.
“Go.”
“What about you?”
“I’m getting Lily.”
“You can’t go through the fire.”
“There’ll be another way upstairs.”
Claire crawled into the passage.
Ethan followed.
Behind them, something inside the hidden room made a soft metallic click.
Ethan looked back.
On the wall where Claire had been restrained was a small black device.
A recorder.
He ripped it free.
A red light blinked.
Someone had been recording Claire.
Or Ethan.
Or both.
He shoved it into his pocket.
The tunnel led to an old wine cellar.
A staircase climbed toward the kitchen.
Ethan ran.
When he reached the living room, the fire was already dying.
The gasoline can lay on its side.
The hatch was blackened but intact.
Lily was gone.
“LILY!”
No answer.
Claire emerged behind him.
Ethan searched the hallway.
Dining room.
Library.
Staircase.
Nothing.
Then he saw muddy footprints.
Small.
Barely larger than Lily’s shoes.
They crossed the foyer and climbed upstairs.
Ethan followed.
The prints ended outside Lily’s bedroom.
He opened the door slowly.
Lily sat on her bed.
Calm.
Holding a framed photograph of her mother.
Rachel Mercer.
Beautiful brunette.
Warm smile.
Dead at thirty-three.
Ethan stayed in the doorway.
“Lily.”
She did not look at him.
“Why did you lock me down there?”
No response.
“Sweetheart.”
Lily finally lifted her eyes.
“You said she was dead.”
Ethan’s chest tightened.
“She is.”
“Liar.”
Claire appeared behind him.
Lily saw her.
Something close to hatred flashed across the child’s face.
“You brought her back.”
Ethan frowned.
“Brought who back?”
Lily pointed at Claire.
“Her.”
Claire looked bewildered.
“I’ve never met you.”
“Yes, you have.”
“No.”
Lily stood.
“You were in Mommy’s room.”
Claire slowly looked at Ethan.
“I’ve never been in this house.”
Lily walked to her closet.
She removed a small pink backpack.
From it she took an old phone.
Ethan recognized it.
Rachel’s.
He had locked that phone in a safe after her death.
“How did you get that?”
Lily ignored him.
She opened a video.
The timestamp was six days before Rachel died.
Rachel stood in the mansion’s upstairs hallway.
She looked frightened.
The camera shook.
Rachel whispered:
“If Ethan brings Claire into this house, don’t believe either of them.”
Claire stared.
Ethan looked from the screen to her.
Rachel continued:
“Especially if Claire says she was trapped.”
Claire’s face went white.
The video ended.
Silence filled the bedroom.
Claire whispered:
“That’s impossible.”
Lily stared at Ethan.
“You killed Mommy because she found her.”
Ethan took one step toward her.
Lily backed away immediately.
That hurt more than the accusation.
“Lily, I did not kill your mother.”
“You buried her.”
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t let me see her.”
Ethan stopped.
That was true.
Rachel’s casket had remained closed.
Lily had been five.
Ethan had told her the accident had made viewing impossible.
Lily’s voice became smaller.
“Was Mommy even inside?”
Ethan could not answer quickly enough.
And Lily saw the hesitation.
She began crying.
“You lied.”
“Lily—”
“You lied!”
She threw Rachel’s phone onto the bed and ran into the bathroom, locking the door.
Claire picked up the phone.
“Ethan.”
He did not look at her.
“Why was Rachel talking about me?”
“I don’t know.”
“She knew my name.”
“I heard her.”
“And why did you freeze when Lily said that sentence?”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Claire waited.
Finally:
“Because Rachel used to say it.”
“What?”
“Now you pay for what you done.”
Claire frowned.
“That doesn’t sound like—”
“Not Rachel.”
Ethan looked toward the locked bathroom.
“Her sister.”
Claire went still.
“I thought Rachel was an only child.”
“So did everyone.”
“Who was Anna?”
Ethan’s voice dropped.
“The woman Rachel was convicted of killing.”
Claire stared.
Before she could speak, Rachel’s old phone vibrated in her hand.
One new message.
Impossible.
The phone had no active service.
Claire opened it.
A photograph appeared.
Taken seconds ago.
Ethan and Claire standing in Lily’s bedroom.
Photographed from inside the room.
Beneath it:
YOU GOT OUT TOO SOON.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
THIS TIME, ETHAN, LET THE GIRL FINISH IT.
