For three seconds, Ethan simply stared at the word.
MARGARET.
His mother’s name was engraved into the telephone.
Not written on paper.
Not hidden in a file.
Engraved into the metal like someone had expected him to find it.
Clara watched his face.
“Ethan?”
He didn’t answer.
He ran his thumb over the letters.
Then he noticed something else.
A tiny seam around the base of the telephone.
He twisted it.
The metal plate came loose.
Beneath it was a narrow compartment.
Inside lay a brass key.
And a folded piece of paper.
Ethan unfolded it.
Only four words had been written.
Below the old foundation.
Clara looked at him.
“The old foundation of what?”
Ethan’s eyes moved toward the ceiling.
“The original Bellmont house.”
“But we’re underneath the chapel.”
“Exactly.”
He looked at the staircase.
“The current estate was built around the original structure.”
Clara frowned.
“So?”
“So the original foundation should be directly beneath us.”
A distant metallic bang echoed through the corridor.
They both turned.
Someone was coming.
Clara whispered, “We need to go.”
Ethan pocketed the key.
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“If my mother is alive…”
He stopped.
He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Clara understood.
“If she’s alive, she’s been down here for years.”
“Twenty-seven.”
The words came out quietly.
Clara reached for his hand.
“We’ll find her.”
Ethan looked at her.
“What if she’s not?”
“Then we’ll find out what happened.”
“And if Richard is right?”
“About what?”
“That Gabriel lied.”
Clara shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Ethan stared at her.
She squeezed his hand.
“But I know one thing.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to figure this out alone.”
His expression softened.
For a moment, the underground chamber disappeared.
There was no Richard.
No Room Zero.
No dead mother.
No missing sister.
Just Clara.
The woman he had loved before the world had convinced them to hate each other.
Then the sound came again.
Closer.
Ethan released her hand.
“Come on.”
They followed the corridor beyond Room Zero.
It narrowed until they had to walk sideways.
The stone walls were damp.
Roots had pushed through the ceiling in several places.
Clara looked down.
There were footprints in the dust.
Fresh ones.
“Ethan.”
He stopped.
She pointed.
Someone had walked through recently.
Barefoot.
Small footprints.
Ethan crouched.
“Those aren’t adult footprints.”
Clara looked at him.
“Then whose are they?”
He followed them.
They disappeared around a corner.
He stood.
“Let’s find out.”
The footprints led to another door.
Unlike Room Zero, this one wasn’t made of steel.
It was wooden.
Old.
Paint peeling.
There was no handle.
Only a circular opening.
Ethan inserted the brass key.
The door clicked.
Clara held her breath.
Ethan pushed.
The door opened inward.
A smell drifted out.
Antiseptic.
Clara’s stomach tightened.
“That’s a hospital smell.”
Ethan nodded.
Inside was a small room.
A bed.
A sink.
A table.
Medical equipment.
Old bottles.
A rusted IV stand.
And on the wall— photographs.
Dozens of them.
Ethan walked closer.
They were photographs of him.
As a baby.
As a child.
At school.
Playing football.
Graduating.
Standing beside Richard.
Standing beside Victoria.
Standing beside Clara.
Clara’s breath caught.
“That one…”
She pointed.
It was a photograph from seven years ago.
He was standing outside the restaurant where he had intended to meet her.
Clara stared.
“How did they get this?”
Ethan stepped closer.
Beneath the photograph was a date.
October 17, 2019.
Three days after their breakup.
Someone had been watching them.
Not just then.
For years.
Ethan pulled another photograph from the wall.
It showed Clara entering Bellmont six months ago.
Before she’d ever met Ethan again.
Clara went pale.
“Someone was following me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ethan looked at the photographs.
“I think they were waiting for us to come back.”
A faint sound came from behind them.
A cough.
Both froze.
Clara slowly turned.
The room appeared empty.
“Did you hear that?”
Ethan nodded.
Another cough.
This time it came from behind the wall.
Ethan walked toward it.
He pressed his ear against the stone.
Nothing.
Then— three knocks.
Clara’s eyes widened.
“The same knocking.”
Ethan examined the wall.
A narrow crack ran along one side.
He pushed.
The stone moved.
A hidden panel swung inward.
Beyond it was another room.
A woman sat on the edge of a bed.
Her back was turned toward them.
Her hair was long.
Gray streaks ran through dark strands.
She was wearing an old white hospital gown.
Ethan couldn’t move.
Clara whispered:
“Ethan…”
The woman slowly turned.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
The woman looked at Ethan.
Her eyes widened.
Then her lips parted.
“Nathaniel?”
Ethan’s knees nearly gave way.
He stepped forward.
“Mom?”
The woman covered her mouth.
Tears filled her eyes.
“My baby.”
Ethan stopped.
The world seemed to tilt.
He had imagined this moment a thousand different ways.
He had imagined meeting his biological mother.
He had imagined asking why she abandoned him.
He had imagined anger.
Accusations.
Explanations.
But he had never imagined this.
A woman who looked old enough to be his mother.
A woman who had aged twenty-seven years underground.
A woman who was supposed to have been dead.
He whispered:
“Margaret?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
Ethan took another step.
Then stopped.
His voice broke.
“You’re alive.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
Margaret’s face collapsed.
“Because Richard wanted me alive.”
Clara felt cold.
“For what?”
Margaret looked toward the door.
“To punish me.”
Ethan’s eyes filled.
“You knew where I was.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me grow up.”
Margaret nodded.
“I watched every birthday.”
Ethan’s breathing became uneven.
“Why didn’t you come for me?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Because every time I tried, someone died.”
Silence.
“What?”
She looked at Clara.
“Do you know how many people Richard killed to keep me here?”
Clara shook her head.
“Neither do I.”
Margaret lowered her eyes.
“But I know what happened to the ones who tried to rescue me.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“Gabriel?”
Her expression changed.
“Gabriel found me.”
Ethan’s eyes widened.
“He came here?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
Clara’s heart stopped.
“That was the night Ethan and I broke up.”
Margaret nodded.
“That night wasn’t about separating you.”
“Then what was it?”
“Getting Gabriel out.”
Ethan frowned.
“What happened?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Richard discovered Gabriel had found Room Seven.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“That’s why he was framed.”
“Yes.”
“And Alexander?” Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Margaret’s eyes filled with tears.
“Alexander tried to help him.”
“Where is Alexander now?”
“I don’t know.”
Clara stepped forward.
“You said there were three children.”
Margaret nodded.
“Alexander, Nathaniel, and Evelyn.”
“Why did Richard separate you?”
Margaret looked at Ethan.
“Because all three of you were evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
Margaret hesitated.
Then said:
“Richard didn’t build Calloway Holdings.”
Ethan had heard it before.
But hearing it from his mother made it different.
“Then who did?”
“You did.”
Ethan frowned.
“I was a baby.”
“Not you personally.”
She looked toward Clara.
“Your birth was part of a legal inheritance Richard couldn’t break.”
Clara didn’t understand.
Margaret continued.
“Before you were born, I owned controlling shares in Calloway Holdings.”
Ethan stared.
“Why?”
“Because my father founded it.”
Clara’s eyes widened.
“Then Richard…”
“Married me for it.”
Ethan went silent.
Margaret continued.
“He couldn’t access the shares while I was alive.”
“So he kept you hidden.”
“Yes.”
“And he took me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the shares would eventually pass to you.”
Ethan looked confused.
“Why me?”
Margaret smiled sadly.
“Because you were the heir.”
“To Calloway?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“To everything.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret looked toward a locked cabinet.
“Open it.”
Ethan walked over.
He tried the brass key.
The lock clicked.
Inside was a thick black ledger.
Margaret watched him.
“Everything Richard did is recorded there.”
Ethan pulled it out.
“Names?”
“Names.”
“Payments?”
“Payments.”
“Murders?”
Margaret’s eyes filled with tears.
“Some.”
Clara stepped closer.
“And Room Zero?”
Margaret looked at her.
“Room Zero wasn’t built to hide evidence.”
“Then why?”
“To hide me.”
Clara’s breath caught.
Margaret looked toward the door.
“I wasn’t the only prisoner.”
Ethan froze.
“What?”
Margaret’s eyes moved toward the dark corridor.
“Richard had another prisoner.”
“Who?”
Margaret hesitated.
Then whispered:
“The man who knows what really happened the night you were born.”
A sudden crash came from outside.
Everyone turned.
The hidden door slammed shut.
Ethan ran toward it.
Locked.
Margaret grabbed his arm.
“Don’t open it.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s here.”
“Who?”
Margaret looked terrified.
“The man who has been controlling Richard for twenty-seven years.”
Clara’s heart raced.
“You know him?”
Margaret nodded.
“I know exactly who he is.”
“Who?”
Margaret stared at Ethan.
Then whispered:
“Your grandfather.”
Ethan went still.
“My grandfather is dead.”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
She looked toward the locked door.
“Your grandfather is the reason Richard became a monster.”
A shadow appeared beneath the doorway.
Someone was standing outside.
Then came a voice.
Old.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Margaret.”
Her face turned white.
Ethan stared at the door.
The voice continued.
“It’s time to come home.”
Margaret began trembling.
Clara moved closer to Ethan.
“Who is that?”
Margaret whispered:
“The man who owns Calloway Holdings.”
Ethan’s blood ran cold.
“But Richard owns it.”
Margaret looked at him.
“No.”
The door slowly began to open.
“Richard only thought he did.”