Chapter 3 - THE VOICE IN THE MASONRY
Roman tilted his head, following the line of the child’s stare.
Mia’s hand slowly lifted from the blue shawl. With her small, red index finger shaking in the cold air, she pointed directly toward the massive, floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookcase that completely covered the west wall of the study. The enormous structure was packed with hundreds of leather-bound volumes, brass globes, and antique artifacts, looking as solid and immovable as the granite foundation of the mansion itself.
Mia looked at Roman, her voice small, innocent, and chillingly direct.
"Why does the crying lady live inside your wall?" Mia asked softly.
Roman’s expression hardened instantly. The subtle air of detachment around him vanished, replaced by a razor-sharp alertness. He stood up smoothly, turning his head toward the massive bookcase.
The study fell into a total, heavy silence. The sound of the rain outside seemed to retreat, leaving only the sound of Mia’s shallow breathing and the quiet rustle of her baby sister’s shawl.
Roman took two slow steps toward the west wall. At first, there was nothing—only the dry smell of old paper and polished wood filling the room.
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Then, emerging from deep behind the thick mahogany paneling, came a faint, hollow sound. It was the distinct, desperate sound of a woman weeping quietly, her muffled sobs echoing through the hidden hollows of the stone wall.
Roman froze mid-step, his jaw tightening as his eyes locked onto the central seam of the bookcase. Mia moved closer to his side, her small hand reaching out to grab a fold of his dark trousers while her other arm supported the baby sleeping on her back.
