Chapter 5 - Footsteps on the Polished Landing
The second-floor hallway was silent, save for the rhythmic patter of rain against the tall, arched casement windows that overlooked the east gardens. I balanced the stack of fresh linen against my chest, the heavy cotton smelling faintly of bleach and lavender. My arms ached from the weight, but the physical strain offered a welcome anchor against the rising panic in my chest. Downstairs, the man in the heavy black coat was still hidden somewhere in the labyrinth of the pantry and service corridors, while Brooke remained near the main foyer with her clipboard, ticking off schedules and monitoring every movement on the estate.
Natalie’s door was at the far end of the corridor, past the dark mahogany doors of the guest suites. I paused outside her room, my breath shallow. The silence from within felt heavy, different from the usual morning quiet of the house. I set the towels down on a small side table and tested the brass knob. It turned with a faint, dry click, and the door drifted inward on silent hinges.
The room was cold. A sharp gust of wind cut through the space, carrying the damp, metallic scent of the dawn storm. The casement window leading to the wrought-iron balcony had been pushed wide open, rain spitting across the polished walnut floorboards and darkening the edge of the Persian rug. The sheer white curtains whipped violently against the glass, tangling in the brass hardware.
I stepped inside, my soft-soled shoes making no sound against the wood. The bed was unmade, the duvet thrown back in a frantic tangle as if someone had leaped out in sudden haste. A vanity mirror stood across the room, its surface reflecting the gray, washed-out light of the storm. Scattered across the marble top were cosmetic jars, hairpins, and a discarded silk scarf.
Kneeling by the edge of the bed to check if anything else had been left behind, my hand brushed against something cold and metallic half-hidden under the fringe of the rug. I pulled it free. It was a silver locket, the metal still holding a trace of warmth. I pressed the tiny clasp, and the cover sprang open to reveal a faded photograph of two children smiling beneath an old oak tree. It was Natalie’s—she wore it every single day. Her sudden departure without it made no sense unless she had been forced to leave instantly, without time to gather her most personal belongings.
A sharp sound from the hallway froze the blood in my veins.
The unmistakable click of heels on the polished landing grew louder, accompanied by the rustle of silk. Brooke.
I scrambled to my feet, clutching the locket tightly in my palm. There was no time to make it back to the hallway, and the balcony offered nowhere to hide against the driving rain. My eyes darted around the shadowy corners of the bedroom just as a shadow fell across the threshold.
May you like
Without thinking, I lunged toward the tall, louvered doors of the walk-in linen closet tucked behind the corner of the bedroom armoire. I slipped inside into the pitch-black space just as the main bedroom door swung fully open, the flood of hallway light cutting a sharp line across the floorboards.
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