Chapter 11 - The Escaped Monster
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The horror of the discovery echoed through my mind like a physical blow.
Four years in the dark. Four years chained beneath the floorboards while her husband brought home a new wife—me.
"How did she get out?" I asked, my throat dry as dust.
"When you went over the balcony three days ago," Mason explained, reviewing the forensic team's initial report, "the house was swarming with emergency medical technicians and police officers. Margaret left the wine cellar door unlocked during the chaos."
Emily had slipped out of her subterranean prison while everyone was distracted by my broken body lying on the patio.
She had been hiding in the shadows of Atlanta for three days, watching the hospital, waiting for her moment to strike back at the people who had stolen her life.
And she thought I was part of the conspiracy.
"Claire," Mason said, leaning over my bed, his face pale under the harsh fluorescent lights. "Emily thinks you were in on it. She thinks you replaced her on purpose to enjoy her family's wealth."
"I didn't know!" I screamed, my voice breaking with frantic desperation. "I didn't know anything about her! Ethan told me he was a lifelong bachelor! He told me he'd never been married!"
"I know that," Mason assured me gently. "But Emily doesn't. To her, you are wearing her clothes, living in her house, and sleeping beside her husband. You are the face of her torment."
Suddenly, the hospital room's fire alarm began to blare loudly!
WAAAL! WAAAL! WAAAL!
Red emergency strobe lights flashed wildly across the white walls, bathing the room in an eerie, blood-colored glow. The overhead ventilation system clicked off, and the heavy automated fire doors at the end of the corridor slammed shut with a deafening metallic bang.
"Mason..." I gasped, terror paralyzing my limbs inside the heavy body cast.
Mason drew his glock instantly, stepping between my bed and the entrance door. "Stay calm, Claire. It's probably just a system malfunction."
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Through the small glass panel in my hospital door, we watched the two tactical guards standing in the hallway suddenly collapse to the floor, clutching their throats, gasping frantically for air as a thick, sweet-smelling white mist began pouring through the floor vents.
Knockout gas.
