Chapter 2 - THE REACH FROM BELOW
Anna recoiled slightly, her hand freezing on the white lace as Adrian rushed across the suite. He dropped heavily to his knees on the antique oak floor, his dark suit trousers pressing into the dust-covered grain.
Adrian grabbed the long, trailing strip of wedding veil with both hands. His knuckles turned white as he yanked hard, applying his full weight against the obstruction wedged beneath the floorboards.
CREAK-K-K-SNAP.
With a sudden, violent groan of aging wood, a broad hidden floor panel—cleverly concealed beneath the grain of the floorboards—lifted upward three centimeters, unseating a rusted iron latch mechanism buried deep within the floor joists.
Before Adrian or Anna could react, a gaunt, pale woman’s hand shot up through the narrow gap.
The hand was caked in dark grey dust, the fingernails chipped and worn down to the quick, but around the wrist sat a thin silver bracelet that glinted under the afternoon sunlight. The fingers clamped down frantically onto the white lace of the wedding veil, pulling back with a desperate, terrifying strength born of long-term isolation.
Anna gasped in sheer terror, tumbling backward onto the carpet, her hands covering her mouth.
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Standing near the open doorway of the suite was thirty-five-year-old Bianca Vance, Adrian’s younger sister. Bianca was dressed impeccably in an elegant cream-colored silk dress, her brown hair styled into pristine waves. For three years, Bianca had been the loudest voice in the mansion, repeatedly assuring Adrian that Evelyn was an opportunistic gold-digger who had simply fled the city with stolen money on her wedding morning.
The moment Bianca’s eyes landed on the dust-covered hand clutching the veil, the color instantly drained from her face. She turned deathly pale, her lips trembling as her hands gripped the brass doorframe so hard her knuckles turned grey.
