Chapter 8: The Room of Names
The old Vale property looked abandoned from the road.
The grass had grown over the driveway.
The windows were covered with boards.
The house looked dead.
But I knew better now.
Dead things don’t send messages.
Dead things don’t take children.
Dead things don’t wait.
I parked a mile away.
Officer Harris followed me despite my objections.
“You’re not going alone,” he said.
I didn’t argue.
Not because I agreed.
Because I knew he was right.
The house stood at the top of a hill.
The same hill where Elena and I used to play as children.
The same place where Ethan used to sit alone for hours.
Back then, I thought he was just strange.
Quiet.
Different.
I never imagined what was happening inside his head.
The front door was unlocked.
That scared me more than if it had been locked.
People lock doors to keep others out.
Ethan left his open because he wanted people to enter.
The hallway smelled like dust.
Old wood.
Mold.
And something familiar.
The same smell from beneath Elena’s floor.
I moved deeper into the house.
“Ethan!””
My voice echoed.
No answer.
Officer Harris held his flashlight up.
“Daniel.””
I stopped.
On the wall were photographs.
Dozens.
Children.
Missing children.
Some I recognized from the news.
Some I didn’t.
My stomach turned.
“He kept records.””
Officer Harris took pictures.
Every child had a name.
Every child had a date.
Every child had a note.
Not a description.
A judgment.
Good listener.
Too trusting.
Strong.
Defiant.
I felt sick.
“He studied them.””
Officer Harris nodded.
“He studied victims.””
Then I saw it.
At the end of the hallway.
A door.
Painted white.
A child’s drawing was taped to it.
A house.
A family.
And underneath:
*DADDY WILL FIND ME.*
My legs nearly gave out.
Leo had drawn that.
I knew it.
I knew my son’s handwriting.
I pushed the door open.
Inside was a room filled with toys.
Hundreds.
A child’s bedroom.
But something was wrong.
Everything was arranged perfectly.
Too perfectly.
Like a museum.
Like Ethan had created a place where children existed only as memories.
On the wall were names.
Not photographs.
Names.
Leo.
Sophie.
Emma.
Noah.
Lily.
And underneath all of them:
Maya.
My heart stopped.
“No.””
Officer Harris grabbed my shoulder.
“Daniel.””
I pulled away.
“No.””
A speaker crackled above us.
Then Ethan’s voice filled the room.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?””
I turned.
“Where is my daughter?””
“She’s nearby.””
“Show yourself.””
A laugh.
“You always were impatient.””
I stepped toward the speaker.
“You took my son.””
“No.””
His voice sharpened.
“I saved him.””
“You destroyed him.””
“I protected him from the truth.””
“What truth?””
Silence.
Then:
“The truth about you.””
I froze.
“What?””
Ethan continued.
“You think you’re the hero because you looked for Leo.””
My hands shook.
“You abandoned him first.””
The words hit harder than I expected.
“I never abandoned him.””
“Didn’t you?””
The room went quiet.
“You ignored the warning.””
My mind went back.
The voicemail.
Elena calling.
Me refusing to answer.
“You ignored Elena.””
A pause.
“You ignored the signs.””
I felt anger rising.
“You’re blaming me?””
“No.””
His voice became almost gentle.
“I’m showing you.””
A screen on the wall turned on.
A video began playing.
It showed my house.
Fourteen months ago.
The night Leo disappeared.
My breath caught.
The camera angle was from inside.
Someone had been watching us.
The video showed Leo playing in the backyard.
Then Elena arriving.
Then a man appearing near the fence.
Ethan.
My heart pounded.
But then something happened.
Something I never expected.
Elena ran toward Leo.
She was screaming.
Not angry.
Terrified.
Then Marcus appeared.
The video froze.
Ethan’s voice returned.
“Your sister tried to save him.””
I stared at the screen.
“What?””
“She failed.””
The lights flickered.
Then another screen turned on.
A live feed.
Maya.
She was sitting in a room.
Crying.
But alive.
“Maya!””
She looked up.
“Daddy?””
I moved toward the screen.
“Maya, I’m coming.””
Ethan interrupted.
“No.””
His voice became colder.
“You’re not here to rescue anyone.””
The screen split.
On one side was Maya.
On the other was Leo.
My son.
Awake.
Watching.
“Daddy,” Leo whispered.
I covered my mouth.
Ethan spoke.
“You spent your life trying to protect your children.””
The lights went dark.
“But you never asked why they needed protection from the people closest to them.””
A door behind me clicked.
Locked.
Officer Harris pulled at it.
Nothing.
Then Ethan’s final words echoed through the speakers.
“Welcome to the first room.””
The floor beneath us shook.
May you like
And somewhere below the house…
A child started crying.
