Chapter 5 - THE SECRET BEHIND THE SHELVES
Mia took a hesitant step away from the desk.
The floorboards did not creak beneath her light weight. She moved like a small shadow, drawn inexorably toward the darkest corner of the library, where the shadows pooled between two towering stacks of leather-bound folios. The pink wrap around her shoulders remained tight, Lily’s soft, even breaths whistling gently against the fabric.
Duca moved with her, closing the distance in three silent, long strides until he was standing just behind her right shoulder. His large hand hovered near her back, ready to pull her behind him at the slightest sign of danger.
The camera slowly tracked in on a medium-wide shot, framing the imposing, tattooed man and the tiny girl in the floral dress staring up at twenty feet of unbroken, hand-carved mahogany. The woodwork was immaculate—fluted pilasters, classical cornices, and shelves laden with thousands of pounds of heavy literature. There was no seam visible, no break in the craftsmanship. It was a structural load-bearing wall that had stood since 1892.
Mia lifted a single, trembling arm. Her index finger, red from the scrub water, pointed directly toward a shelf at waist-height, tucked between a row of gilt-edged volumes of nineteenth-century legal treatises.
Duca leaned down slightly, his dark eyes narrowing as he scanned the wood. He could see nothing. No wires, no drafts, no loose hinges. It was solid New England timber.
May you like
Mia did not look up at him. She kept her eyes glued to the dark grain of the shelf, her voice dropping into a barely audible, childlike whisper that sent a cold spike through Duca’s spine.
“Mr. Duca…” she asked softly, her tone carrying an innocent, terrifying curiosity. “Why does someone keep knocking from inside there?”
