Chapter 16 - The Hidden Room
I locked the front door with three separate deadbolts, drew the heavy velvet drapes across every window on the ground floor, and led Lily up the stairs to the safety of the master suite. I made her a cup of hot cocoa with extra marshmallows, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed until her shivering stopped.
“Did the men hurt your mom, Lily?” I asked gently, keeping my voice calm.
“No,” Lily whispered, wrapping her small hands around the warm mug. “Mom was already at the hospital. But two men in suits knocked on our door and asked if my mom had ever delivered any packages or envelopes from Sofia’s doctor. I hid in the closet until they left.”
My heart skipped a beat. The medical files. Before Sofia passed away, her primary cardiologist had sent a confidential packet of alternate treatment logs to Lily’s mother—who worked as his head pediatric nurse—fearing that Daniel and Vanessa were tampering with the official hospital records.
Lily’s mother wasn't just a nurse; she was the key witness who could prove that Daniel and Vanessa had deliberately delayed Sofia’s emergency heart medication transfer to collect an early payout from an insurance rider.
If Viktor Vance’s enforcers were hunting for Lily’s mother, she was in mortal danger.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Director Hayes’ direct satellite number. It rang three times before going straight to voicemail. I tried again. Same result—automated disconnect.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. The federal secure line was either jammed or compromised.
I walked over to the antique mahogany wardrobe against the bedroom wall, pressed a hidden brass peg carved into the molding, and watched as the heavy wood panel clicked and swung open, revealing a narrow, dark staircase leading down into the old Victorian cellar.
“Come with me, Lily,” I said, taking her small hand. “We’re going to play a secret game and hide in the old blanket fort downstairs.”
Lily nodded bravely, clutching her pink backpack. We descended the narrow wooden stairs into the damp, stone-walled cellar beneath the house.
Long before our grandfather built the grand Victorian above it, the cellar had served as a nineteenth-century storage vault with thick stone walls impenetrable to outside noise or cellular signals. Perfect as a temporary safe room.
I settled Lily into a cozy corner surrounded by spare quilts and pillows, handing her a small flashlight and a picture book. “Stay right here, honey. Don’t make a sound, and don't open this door for anyone except me.”
“I promise, Aunt Emma,” she whispered, her eyes shining with quiet courage.
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I closed the heavy oak cellar door from the inside, engaging the manual iron latch. As I turned back toward the stairs leading up to the main house, a loud, violent crash echoed through the floorboards overhead.
Someone had just kicked in the boarded-up front doors.
