“You heard that?”
Eleanor’s face had gone completely white.
“Don’t answer.”
The voice came again.
“Emily.”
This time, it sounded closer.
Emily stepped toward the hallway.
Eleanor grabbed her arm.
“No.”
“Who is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
Eleanor tightened her grip.
“I told you to leave.”
Emily pulled her arm away.
“You brought me upstairs because you wanted me to know the truth.”
“I brought you upstairs because I wanted you alive.”
Emily stared at her.
Before she could respond, footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Slow.
Deliberate.
One step.
Then another.
Someone was walking toward them.
Eleanor whispered:
“It’s happening again.”
A few seconds later, the lights came back on.
The hallway was empty.
Emily looked around.
Nothing.
No one.
Then she noticed something on the floor.
A small red Halloween mask.
It was shaped like a child’s face.
Emily bent down and picked it up.
On the inside was a name written in black marker.
LILY.
Emily dropped it.
Eleanor began crying.
“She was wearing that mask the night she disappeared.”
Emily looked at her.
“You said you didn’t know what happened to her.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why is this here?”
Eleanor shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
A door slammed somewhere upstairs.
Emily jumped.
“Daniel?”
She ran toward the staircase.
Eleanor followed.
“Emily, wait!”
But Emily was already moving.
She reached the top of the stairs.
The hallway was empty.
At the far end was a door.
A door Emily had never noticed before.
It was partially hidden behind a large Halloween decoration.
She walked toward it.
Eleanor stopped behind her.
“No.”
Emily turned.
“What is that room?”
Eleanor said nothing.
“Eleanor.”
“That room hasn’t been opened in thirty-three years.”
Emily’s eyes widened.
“Why?”
“Because that’s where Lily was last seen.”
Emily reached for the handle.
Eleanor grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t.”
Emily pulled away.
Then she heard something from inside.
Three soft knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Both women froze.
Emily whispered:
“Someone’s in there.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“No one can be.”
Another three knocks.
This time, followed by a child’s voice.
“Mom?”
Eleanor’s face collapsed.
She whispered:
“Lily.”
Emily opened the door.
Inside was a small bedroom.
Dust covered almost everything.
Old toys sat on shelves.
A faded teddy bear rested against the wall.
The room looked frozen in time.
And on the far wall were dozens of photographs.
Emily walked closer.
They were all pictures of Lily.
Lily at three.
Lily at four.
Lily at five.
But then Emily noticed something.
Every photograph had been taken inside the same house.
Except one.
The final photograph showed Lily standing outside.
Behind her was an unfamiliar building.
Emily picked it up.
“What is this?”
Eleanor stared at the photograph.
“I’ve never seen that.”
Emily turned it over.
There was an address written on the back.
Her eyes widened.
“Eleanor.”
“What?”
“This is an address.”
Eleanor took the photograph.
She read it.
Her hands started shaking.
“That can’t be.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s where Thomas worked.”
Emily frowned.
“Your husband?”
“Yes.”
“What was the place?”
Eleanor looked toward the window.
“A private children’s home.”
Emily’s mouth fell open.
“What?”
Eleanor finally said the truth she’d buried for decades.
“Lily wasn’t our biological daughter.”
Emily stared at her.
“What?”
“Thomas and I adopted her.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
“Then why did you hide that?”
“Because Thomas never wanted anyone to know.”
“Why?”
Eleanor’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because Lily wasn’t the first child he brought home.”
Emily felt sick.
“What do you mean?”
Eleanor whispered:
“Thomas worked at that children’s home. He had access to records. He used to tell me there were children nobody would ever come looking for.”
Emily stepped backward.
“You’re saying…”
“I didn’t know what he was doing.”
“But you suspected.”
“I suspected too late.”
Emily looked at the photographs again.
“Did Thomas take Lily?”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“I believe he did.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is he still alive?”
Eleanor shook her head.
“He died eleven years ago.”
Emily stared at her.
“Then who has been sending these letters?”
Eleanor didn’t answer.
Because neither of them knew.
A noise came from downstairs.
Daniel’s voice.
“Mom?”
Emily and Eleanor looked at each other.
Daniel appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
He looked confused.
“Why are you both up here?”
Emily immediately walked toward him.
“Daniel, we need to talk.”
His expression changed.
“What happened?”
Emily held up the photograph.
Daniel stared at it.
His face became completely pale.
“Where did you get that?”
“In the room.”
Daniel didn’t move.
“Mom,” he whispered.
Eleanor said nothing.
Daniel looked at her.
“You opened it?”
“I had to.”
He looked at Emily.
“You weren’t supposed to know.”
Emily’s anger exploded.
“You knew.”
Daniel lowered his eyes.
“You knew about Lily.”
“Yes.”
“And you lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Daniel looked at his mother.
Then he said:
“Because I was the one who opened the door.”
Emily went silent.
“What door?”
“The door to Lily’s room.”
“When?”
“That night.”
Daniel’s voice shook.
“I was eight. Lily was crying. She told me a man had taken her downstairs. I followed them.”
Eleanor covered her mouth.
Daniel continued.
“I saw my father.”
Emily stared at him.
“What was he doing?”