Chapter 4: Behind the Library
I stared at the message until the screen dimmed.
The hallway seemed to narrow around me.
“Who is it?”” Daniel asked.
I looked up.
“I don't know.””
“Let me see.””
I pulled the phone against my chest.
“No.””
His jaw tightened.
“Emma, someone is threatening you.””
“They're telling me not to open the cellar.””
“That is exactly why I should see it.””
Charles stepped between us.
“Both of you, stop.””
He held out his hand.
“Emma, give me the phone.””
I hesitated.
Then I placed it in his palm.
He read the messages twice.
His expression changed.
“This number is masked.””
“What does that mean?”” I asked.
“It means whoever sent this doesn't want you tracing them easily.””
The maid moved closer.
“Could it be Lily?””
Everyone looked at her.
Charles shook his head.
“Maybe.””
My mother suddenly said, “No.””
Her voice was so certain that we all turned.
She stared at the phone.
“It isn't Lily.””
“How do you know?”” I asked.
She didn't answer.
I stepped toward her.
“Mom.””
Her eyes met mine.
For one second, she looked like the woman who used to sit beside my bed when I had nightmares.
Then she looked away.
“Because Lily never had a phone.””
The room went silent.
The maid's face tightened.
“You don't know that.””
“I knew her.””
“You knew nothing about her.””
My mother flinched.
The maid took another step.
“She was your daughter too.””
My mother's lips trembled.
I felt something inside me crack.
“My sister was your daughter?””
My mother didn't respond.
I grabbed her wrist.
“Look at me.””
She did.
“Was Lily your daughter?””
Tears slipped down her face.
“Yes.””
The word barely existed.
But it was enough.
I let go of her.
The hallway seemed to tilt.
My whole life had been built around one child.
Me.
The daughter.
The only daughter.
The family heir.
The girl whose photographs filled every room.
And all those years, another little girl had been alive somewhere in the world while my parents erased her existence.
I looked toward the library doors.
“I'm opening it.””
My mother shook her head.
“Please.””
“No.””
“You don't understand what you're walking into.””
“Then finally tell me.””
She looked at the maid.
Then at Charles.
Then at Daniel.
Her shoulders sagged.
“I don't know everything.””
“Tell me what you do know.””
She wiped her face.
“Your father had a private physician.””
Charles frowned.
“Dr. Nathan Bell?””
My mother nodded.
“He treated Lily.””
“For what?””
“She wasn't sick.””
My mother's voice dropped.
“Your father wanted everyone to believe she was.””
I stared at her.
“Why?””
“She remembered the night you were separated.””
My pulse began racing.
“What happened that night?””
My mother closed her eyes.
“I was in the hospital.””
“What about Dad?””
“He was at the house.””
“With Lily?””
“Yes.””
“And me?””
“You were supposed to be asleep.””
I shook my head.
“I remember a storm.””
She nodded.
“There was a storm.””
“I remember someone screaming.””
My mother's face crumpled.
“You heard Lily.””
A cold silence followed.
“What was she screaming?””
My mother didn't answer.
Charles did.
“That is what the records don't explain.””
I looked at him.
“What records?””
He opened the file.
“Your father's private notes mention an accident.””
“What accident?””
He turned several pages.
“An electrical fire.””
My stomach tightened.
“When?””
“The night you were separated.””
I stared at the page.
“Where?””
Charles looked toward the library.
“Here.””
Nobody spoke.
The old library suddenly felt less like a room and more like a sealed grave.
I reached for the brass handle.
My mother caught my arm.
“Emma.””
I looked at her.
“If you go inside, there is no putting this back.””
I pulled free.
“Good.””
The door opened.
Dust rolled into the hallway.
The room smelled of old paper, cedar, and something faintly metallic beneath it.
I stepped inside.
The tall bookshelves rose toward the ceiling.
I remembered this room from childhood.
Or thought I did.
There had always been a green armchair beside the fireplace.
A grandfather clock.
A portrait of my father.
I walked slowly toward the back wall.
Nothing looked unusual.
Charles followed.
“Where is the cellar entrance?””
I looked at my mother.
She pointed.
“Behind the shelves.””
“Which one?””
“The third.””
I counted.
One.
Two.
Three.
I placed my hand against the wooden frame.
Nothing happened.
I pushed.
Nothing.
I pushed harder.
The shelf shifted.
A low groan came from somewhere behind it.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Let me.””
“No.””
I pressed both palms against the shelf.
It moved another inch.
A hidden latch clicked.
The entire bookcase swung inward.
A narrow staircase appeared behind it.
The air that came out was cold.
The maid covered her mouth.
“Oh God.””
I stared down into the darkness.
On the wall beside the stairs was a strip of faded wallpaper.
Blue.
With tiny yellow flowers.
I knew that pattern.
My legs weakened.
“No.””
Daniel looked at me.
“What?””
I touched the wall.
“This was in my bedroom.””
My mother whispered, “It used to be in Lily's room.””
I turned.
“You said I was never allowed in here.””
“I was trying to keep you away from this.””
“Why?””
“Because your father locked the door after…”
She stopped.
“After what?””
“After Lily disappeared.””
Charles shone his flashlight down the steps.
“There are footprints.””
I looked.
Fresh dirt marked three of the bottom steps.
My heart pounded.
“Those weren't there before.””
Charles crouched.
“No.””
He looked up.
“Someone's been down here recently.””
The maid grabbed my arm.
“Then don't go.””
I looked at her.
She was frightened now.
Not merely worried.
Terrified.
“Why?””
“Because Lily warned me.””
“About what?””
“She said if anyone ever reopened the room, they would come back.””
“Who?””
She shook her head.
“She wouldn't tell me.””
I stepped down the first stair.
Daniel followed.
“Emma.””
“Stay here.””
“No.””
“This is my family.””
“I know.””
“You don't have to come.””
“I’m coming.””
Charles sighed.
“I'll go first.””
We descended.
The staircase was narrower than it had looked from above.
Our footsteps echoed.
Halfway down, I saw scratches carved into the wall.
At first I thought they were random.
Then I recognized letters.
Small ones.
Made with something sharp.
*E*
*M*
*M*
*A*
My breath caught.
I ran my fingers over the final letter.
“Those are my initials.””
Charles looked closely.
“They may have been carved by a child.””
I found another line beneath it.
*LILY WAS HERE.*
My eyes burned.
“She really was here.””
My mother stood at the top of the staircase.
“I told you.””
I turned.
“How long?””
She didn't answer.
“How long was she kept down here?””
“Not long.””
“How long?””
“Three days.””
Daniel stared at her.
“Three days?””
My mother nodded.
“Your father was waiting for the doctor.””
“Why?””
“He wanted Lily to change her story.””
“What story?””
My mother looked down.
“She said she saw him carrying something.””
“Something?””
She lowered her voice.
“Money.””
Charles looked sharply at her.
“What kind of money?””
My mother shook her head.
“I never saw it.””
“You knew about it.””
“I knew he was frightened.””
“And Lily?””
“She wouldn't stop talking.””
The words hung in the air.
“What did she say?”” I asked.
My mother looked at me.
“She said Daddy had killed someone.””
Everything went quiet.
I felt the hair rise along my arms.
“Who?””
My mother whispered:
“Your grandfather.””
Charles went completely still.
Daniel stared.
I shook my head.
“My grandfather died of a heart attack.””
“That was the official story.””
“Official?””
My mother's eyes filled again.
“Your father told me what I needed to believe.””
Charles said, “And Lily saw something different.””
My mother nodded.
I looked deeper into the basement.
At the bottom of the stairs stood a wooden door.
It was painted white once.
Now the paint was cracked and yellow.
A tiny brass key hung from the lock.
I reached for it.
My mother screamed.
“Emma, don't!””
I froze.
The scream echoed through the basement.
Then I heard something.
A sound behind the door.
Breathing.
Human breathing.
Slow.
Close.
Daniel whispered, “Did you hear that?””
Charles nodded.
The maid began crying behind us.
My hand remained on the key.
“Someone is in there.””
My mother was shaking.
“You don't understand.””
“Then explain.””
She stared at the door.
“Your father told me the room was empty.””
Charles frowned.
“The room?””
My mother nodded.
“But it wasn't.””
I turned the key.
The lock clicked.
The door opened three inches.
Cold air touched my face.
Then a voice came from the darkness.
A woman's voice.
Older than the one in my memories.
But unmistakably familiar.
“Emma?””
My heart stopped.
The voice said my name again.
“Emma… is that you?””
May you like
I pushed the door open.
And a woman stepped out of the darkness wearing my sister's necklace.
