Chapter 6 - THE HOUSE THAT REMEMBEREDAt 2:18 p.m., Sofia left St. Catherine's with permission from her supervisor.
She had told Dr. Reed that she was dealing with a serious family emergency.
He had looked concerned.
“Do you need someone to drive you?”
“No. I'll be careful.”
He hesitated.
“Your father's condition is stable for now. I'll call if anything changes.”
Sofia thanked him.
Then she walked toward the parking lot.
All six dogs were waiting.
Finn stood beside her car.
Atlas watched the hospital entrance.
Ruby carried a small cloth pouch in her mouth.
Shadow remained near the fence.
Daisy sniffed the tires.
Bear sat beside the driver's door.
Sofia stared at them.
“You're all coming?”
Finn barked once.
Despite everything, Sofia almost smiled.
“Fine. But nobody gets carsick.”
She opened the rear doors.
The dogs climbed inside with surprising discipline.
Atlas took the passenger seat.
Finn settled behind him.
The others arranged themselves across the back.
Sofia started the engine.
As she drove away, she glanced toward the hospital.
Victor stood at a second-floor window.
Watching.
The farmhouse at Miller's Creek was forty minutes outside Bellhaven.
Sofia remembered visiting it once as a child.
There had been apple trees.
A wooden swing.
A narrow stream behind the property.
Her mother had told her it was a place where frightened things could learn to feel safe again.
Now the house stood beneath a gray afternoon sky.
Its windows were dark.
The front porch sagged.
Weeds had overtaken the driveway.
Sofia parked near the gate.
Finn immediately jumped out.
The other dogs followed.
Atlas remained close to her.
Sofia approached the front door.
The key marked 614 fit perfectly.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and old wood.
Furniture stood beneath white sheets.
A grandfather clock had stopped at 4:17.
On the wall hung a faded painting of a meadow.
Sofia remembered it.
Her mother had painted it herself.
She touched the frame.
“Mom?”
Silence.
Finn barked from the hallway.
Sofia followed him into the kitchen.
The dog stopped beside an old pantry.
Shadow pushed forward.
He sniffed the floor, then scratched at the wooden boards.
Sofia knelt.
One plank was slightly raised.
She pulled it free.
Beneath it lay a metal ring.
She tugged.
A narrow trapdoor opened.
Cold air rose from below.
A wooden staircase descended into darkness.
Sofia switched on her phone flashlight.
Atlas stepped in front of her.
His body stiffened.
“It's okay,” she whispered.
But the shepherd refused to move.
Then Daisy began whining.
She pressed her nose toward the opening.
Sofia remembered Julien's words.
Daisy had been trained to recognize a chemical odor used in Meridian's laboratories.
Sofia's stomach tightened.
Someone had used this basement recently.
She stepped down carefully.
The staircase led to a small underground room.
There were shelves.
Old filing cabinets.
A desk.
And a wall covered with photographs.
Sofia approached.
The pictures showed children.
Dozens of them.
Some were infants.
Others appeared to be teenagers.
Each photograph had a number written beneath it.
Not a name.
A number.
Sofia felt sick.
Then she saw one photograph near the center.
A little girl with dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A blue dress.
E-614.
Elise.
Sofia reached toward the picture.
Behind her, the basement door slammed shut.
She spun around.
Footsteps sounded overhead.
Then a woman's voice came from the darkness.
“Don't turn on the lights.”
Sofia froze.
“Who's there?”
The voice trembled.
“Someone who has been waiting twenty-three years to meet you.”
A figure stepped from behind the shelves.
A woman.
About twenty-nine years old.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A face almost identical to Sofia's.
The woman stared at her.
May you like
Then whispered:
“My name is Elise. And I think you're my sister.”
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