Chapter 6 - The Trap Within the Walls
I ducked the flying ledger and lunged forward, but a section of the wooden ceiling joist groaned overhead and crashed down, blocking the hallway with a wall of burning debris. Sparks rained down like fiery snow, scorching my jacket sleeves.
“Vivian!” I yelled, coughing violently as the smoke grew thicker, blinding my eyes.
She was already out the back door, escaping into the safety of the dark woods. But as I turned to retrace my steps toward the front entrance, a glint of metal beneath a charred floorboard caught my eye.
The heat was blistering, the oxygen thinning by the second. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to save my own life and get back to Harper. But something drew my gaze down to the broken floorboards near the base of the staircase.
The fire had eaten away the old linoleum and subfloor, exposing a hidden compartment beneath the stairs—a compartment that had been sealed shut with industrial deadbolts.
Inside the cavity, surrounded by fireproof insulation, were dozens of locked metal cash boxes, photo albums, and legal documents labeled with names, dates, and bank routing numbers.
Financial records. Extortion logs. Adoption papers.
Clara and Vivian hadn't just been abusing a child; they were part of an extensive, generational ring of fraudulent adoptions and financial blackmail, operating across state lines under fake identities.
With a surge of adrenaline fueled by sheer fury, I grabbed a heavy iron pry bar resting against the wall and jammed it into the seam of the hidden compartment. With a loud crack of splintering wood, the reinforced lid popped open.
I didn't try to save the cash boxes. I reached in blindly, grabbing every single plastic folder and ledger I could haul in my arms, clutching them to my chest like a shield against the heat.
The flames roared louder, a structural beam overhead snapping in half with a deafening groan.
Time’s up.
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I turned and threw myself through the front door just as the entire second story of the mill collapsed inward in a massive sheet of flame and sparks, sending a mushroom cloud of smoke into the night sky.
I hit the gravel hard, rolling twice before scrambling to my feet, gasping for fresh air, clutching the waterproof folders tightly in my grip.
