Chapter 1: The Cry Beneath My Home
“Daddy, Leo is under there. He’s crying.””
Those were the words that shattered the last piece of peace I had left.
My daughter, Mia, pressed her tiny ear against the living room floor, her pink sweater sleeves covering her hands as she lay flat on the old rug. At first, I thought she was playing another one of her imaginary games.
Then I saw her face.
She wasn’t smiling.
She was listening.
The television was muted. The house was silent except for the ticking clock above the fireplace and the rain tapping against the windows.
I dropped the laundry basket I was holding.
“Mia,” I whispered.
“What did you say?””
She looked up at me with wide, terrified eyes.
“Leo is under the floor.””
My heart stopped.
My son Leo had been missing for eight months.
Eight months of police searches.
Eight months of unanswered questions.
Eight months of waking up at 3 a.m. and staring at his empty bedroom door, hoping somehow I would see his little face standing there.
Everyone told me to accept it.
Everyone told me children who disappear are sometimes never found.
But I never accepted it.
Not for one second.
I rushed toward Mia and dropped to my knees.
“Sweetheart, tell Daddy exactly what you heard.””
She pointed at the floor.
“I heard him.””
Her voice trembled.
“He said my name.””
A cold wave moved through my body.
“Mia, Leo hasn’t been here for a long time.””
She shook her head.
“No. He’s here. He said, ‘Mia, tell Daddy.’”
My hands started shaking.
Before I could answer, footsteps echoed from the hallway.
My mother-in-law, Elina, walked into the room carrying two cups of coffee.
She wore her usual calm expression. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. A woman who always looked like nothing in the world could disturb her.
“What is she doing?”” Elina asked.
Her tone was casual.
Too casual.
I ignored her.
I pressed my ear against the floor.
At first, I heard nothing.
Then…
A faint sound.
A creak.
Or maybe my imagination.
I looked at Mia.
She nodded quickly.
“You hear him too.””
I grabbed the edge of the rug and pulled it away.
“What are you doing?”” Elina asked.
I didn’t respond.
The hardwood underneath was scratched and uneven.
My eyes narrowed.
This was strange.
Four months earlier, Elina had told me she replaced this section of flooring after a pipe leak.
She had insisted on handling the repairs herself while I was working.
I never questioned it.
Why would I?
She was my wife’s mother.
She was my children’s grandmother.
I grabbed a screwdriver from the kitchen drawer and jammed it between the wooden boards.
“David,” Elina said sharply.
It was the first time I heard panic in her voice.
“Stop.””
I froze.
Slowly, I turned toward her.
“Why?””
Her lips parted.
She didn’t answer.
That was enough.
I forced the screwdriver down harder.
The wood cracked.
The sound echoed through the room.
Mia covered her ears.
I pulled again.
The board lifted.
A wave of cold air rushed out from the darkness underneath.
The smell hit me first.
Damp wood.
Dust.
Something old.
I reached my hand into the gap.
My fingers searched through the darkness.
Then I touched something.
Small.
Soft.
I pulled it out.
My breath disappeared.
A tiny blue toddler shoe.
Leo’s shoe.
The same pair he wore the morning he vanished.
“No…” I whispered.
My fingers tightened around it.
Behind me, the coffee cups shook.
I slowly stood.
“Elina.””
She didn’t move.
“You said this floor was replaced four months ago.””
Her face went pale.
“David, I never meant for you to…”
I stepped toward her.
“Never meant for me to what?””
She looked toward the hole in the floor.
And that was when I saw it.
Fear.
Real fear.
Not guilt.
Not sadness.
Fear.
I turned back and looked into the darkness beneath my house.
“Leo?””
My voice cracked.
“Leo, can you hear me?””
For several seconds, there was nothing.
Then from somewhere below…
A weak sound.
A child’s voice.
“Daddy?””
My knees nearly gave out.
I dropped beside the opening.
“Leo!””
But before I could reach deeper into the darkness, another sound came from underneath the floor.
A second voice.
An adult voice.
May you like
And it whispered one sentence that made my blood run cold.
“David… you were never supposed to find him.””
