Chapter 11
Chapter 11: The Oxygen Thief
The smoke was not from a fire. It was white, chemical, and thick.
"Halon gas," Detective Lane shouted, coughing as he covered his mouth with his arm. "It’s a fire suppression system. It sucks the oxygen out of the room!"
Daniel held Hope tight against his chest, wrapping his jacket around her tiny face.
The baby began to cry, a sharp, terrified wail that pierced the chaos.
"We have to get out!" Emily cried out, leaning heavily against the doorframe. She pulled at the brass handle of the nursery door, but it wouldn't budge. The electronic deadbolts had engaged the moment Victoria pressed the button.
Victoria slumped against the wall, clutching her bleeding shoulder. Her elegant wedding pearls were stained with red, but her face was twisted into a triumphant, terrifying mask.
"The windows are reinforced polycarbonate," Victoria wheezed, her breath already growing shallow. "The doors are solid steel core. My husband built this house to be an impenetrable fortress. And now, it will be our tomb."
Lane raised his weapon and fired two shots directly into the window.
The bullets flattened against the glass, leaving only spiderweb fractures. The metal shutters behind the glass didn't even dent.
"She's right," Lane said, panic edging into his professional calm. "We're trapped."
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Daniel looked around the nursery. The air was getting thin. His lungs burned. Hope’s cries were growing weaker.
"No," Daniel said, his eyes locking onto the ornate wooden floorboards. "Dad built this house to protect his family. Not to kill them. He always left a way out."
