Chapter 3 - The Broken Mirror
By 8:00 PM, a massive autumn tempest had rolled over the valley. Torrential rain lashed against the high gothic windows of Vale Manor, and violent gusts of wind howled through the stone turrets like a chorus of weeping ghosts.
Adrian Vale had returned home an hour earlier, locking himself inside his dark ground-floor study with a bottle of scotch. I could hear the faint, melancholic sound of a classical violin playing behind his closed door.
I sat in my third-floor room, staring at the small silver key resting on my palm.
The North Wing. Julian Vance had specifically warned me to stay away from it. The boys were terrified. The previous caregiver had ended up with a shattered leg after digging around there.
Everything in my survival instinct told me to pack my bag, take my forty-three dollars, and run as far away from Vale Manor as possible. But then I pictured Eli’s trembling fingers, Caleb’s terrifying drawings, and Noah’s desperate, angry eyes.
These boys were hostages in their own home. And I was the only person left standing between them and whatever dark shadow was hanging over this house.
BOOM!
A deafening crack of thunder shook the entire mansion.
Instantly, every light in the house went pitch black. The mechanical hum of the heating system sputtered and died, plunging Vale Manor into a freezing, echoing darkness.
I snatched my flashlight from my handbag, clicking it on. The beam of light cut through the thick shadows.
From down the hallway, I heard a high-pitched scream.
“Eli!” I gasped.
I unlocked my door and sprinted down the third-floor corridor toward the boys’ wing on the second floor.
“Eli! Noah!” I called out, my flashlight beam bouncing off the dark paneled walls.
When I reached the second-floor landing, I found Noah, Caleb, and Eli huddled together near the top of the stairs. Eli was sobbing hysterically into Noah’s shoulder, while Caleb was shivering violently.
“Where’s Lucas?” I asked frantically, counting heads.
Noah looked around, his face pale in the flash of my light. “He... he was right behind us! Lucas!”
“Lucas!” I called out, scanning the dark corridor.
A faint, muffled pounding noise echoed from deep within the house—not from the bedrooms, but from the lower level, near the servants’ quarters leading down into the dark basement.
“Stay here! Lock yourselves in Noah’s room and don't come out until I bring him back!” I ordered.
Noah didn't argue this time. He nodded terrifiedly, pulling his younger brothers into his room.
I rushed down the grand staircase, the beam of my flashlight slicing through the pitch-black darkness. The mansion felt entirely different in the storm—like a living, breathing monster.
The muffled pounding grew louder as I approached the heavy wooden door leading down to the basement wine cellars.
“Lucas!” I shouted, banging my hand against the wooden door. “Are you in there?”
“Miss Emma!” Lucas’s small, terrified voice cried out from the other side. “The door locked! I can't open it! It’s cold!”
“Stand back, Lucas!” I yelled.
I grabbed the heavy bronze doorknob and twisted it with all my strength. It was locked from the outside—a heavy latch bolt had been slammed into place.
Someone had locked him in.
My heart hammered in my throat. I slid the metal latch bolt back with a heavy clack and yanked the door open.
Lucas scrambled out of the dark, damp basement stairwell, throwing his arms around my waist, trembling like a leaf.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” I soothed, kneeling down and wrapping my arms tightly around him. “You’re safe.”
“I was trying to get my flashlight from the pantry,” Lucas sobbed, burying his face in my coat. “Then I heard footsteps behind me... and somebody pushed me into the stairwell and locked the door!”
I turned my flashlight beam down into the dark basement stairs. There was no one there now, but the heavy draft of freezing air coming from below meant a basement window had been left open. Or opened from the outside.
“Did you see who it was?” I asked gently.
Lucas shook his head violently. “No. It was too dark. But... but Miss Emma, they dropped this!”
Lucas reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, metallic object.
It was a heavy, silver keycard. Stamped on the front in gold lettering were the words: VALE GLOBAL SECURITY - LEVEL 4 ACCESS.
My chest tightened. That wasn't a child’s toy. That was a high-level security badge belonging to Julian Vance’s private security team.
Someone on the security team had deliberately locked a ten-year-old boy in a dark basement during a power outage.
“Come on,” I said, picking Lucas up in my arms. “We’re going back upstairs.”
As I turned to head toward the main staircase, a looming shadow stepped out from the darkness of the grand foyer.
I gasped, swinging the beam of my flashlight straight into the intruder’s face.
It was Adrian Vale.
He was holding a heavy brass candlestick, his hair disheveled, his eyes wild and bloodshot.
“What is going on down here?” Adrian demanded, his voice echoing in the dark hall.
“Someone locked Lucas in the basement, Mr. Vale!” I yelled, my anger boiling over. “Your son was trapped in the freezing dark because your security team is compromised!”
Adrian blinked, shock washing over his features. He stepped forward, looking down at Lucas, who was clinging to me for dear life.
“Lucas...” Adrian breathed, reaching out a hand to touch his son’s head. “Are you hurt?”
Lucas flinched, shrinking back into my shoulder.
The reaction was like a physical strike to Adrian’s heart. He pulled his hand back, his face twisting in raw, agonizing sorrow.
“I... I set up emergency generators,” Adrian muttered, his voice trembling slightly. “They should kick in within three minutes.”
right on cue, the heavy roar of a generator hummed to life deep beneath the house. The lights flickered, buzzed, and bathed the mansion back in golden illumination.
Adrian looked at me, then at the security keycard still in my hand.
“Where did you get that?” he asked, his tone suddenly lethal.
“Lucas found it by the basement door,” I said stepping closer to him. “Mr. Vale, someone in this house is terrorizing your children. The baseball, the threats, the scared caregivers... it wasn't the boys trying to drive people away. They were trying to warn people! They are being watched!”
Adrian stared at the keycard. His face went entirely blank, but I saw his knuckles turn gray as he clenched his fists.
“Take Lucas upstairs,” Adrian said, his voice terrifyingly quiet.
“Mr. Vale, we need to talk about what’s happening here!”
“Take him upstairs, Miss Carter!” Adrian commanded, a low, desperate thunder in his chest. “Now.”
I swallowed my frustration, holding Lucas tightly, and walked past him toward the stairs.
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As I reached the second floor landing, I turned back to look at Adrian. He was standing alone in the grand foyer, holding the brass candlestick, staring up at the grand framed portrait of his late wife, Evelyn, hanging above the mantelpiece.
He didn't look like a cold billionaire. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a precipice, deciding whether to jump.
