Chapter 9 - THE FIRE
David wrapped his jacket around Lily’s mouth.
“Stay low.”
Nathan kicked the door.
It didn’t move.
Smoke filled the room.
The monitors flickered and died.
Lily crawled toward the wall.
“There has to be another way out.”
Nathan pointed toward the floor.
“Drainage tunnel.”
David found a metal grate beneath the desk.
He pulled it open.
A narrow tunnel disappeared into darkness.
“You first,” he told Lily.
She climbed down.
Nathan followed.
David dropped behind them just as flames began crawling across the ceiling.
They crawled through dirty water while smoke poured into the tunnel.
Lily coughed violently.
David pulled her forward.
“Keep moving!”
A metal door appeared ahead.
Nathan rammed his shoulder against it.
The door burst open, and they fell into the old wine cellar beneath the mansion.
David pushed open a concealed exit.
They emerged behind the gardens.
Police officers rushed toward them.
The west wing windows glowed orange.
Vanessa had set the mansion on fire.
David looked at the burning house.
All his records, photographs, and evidence were inside.
Nathan grabbed his arm.
“She knew exactly what she was doing.”
David looked at him.
“Did you save any copies?”
Nathan handed him a small memory card.
“Everything is on here.”
Lily took it.
“Then we can prove what she did.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Not everything.”
“What’s missing?” David asked.
“The recording of the passenger.”
“Where is it?”
“Saint Vincent.”
They drove there before sunrise.
The rehabilitation center was guarded by a private security team.
The receptionist checked the name.
“Emily Carter is not a patient here.”
Nathan looked at David.
“She was transferred.”
“To where?”
The receptionist glanced at the computer.
Then she leaned closer.
“Someone came for her yesterday.”
“Who?”
The receptionist hesitated.
“A woman named Vanessa Blackwood.”
Lily gripped the counter.
“She took my sister?”
“No,” the receptionist said quietly. “Vanessa didn’t take her.”
“Then who did?”
The receptionist turned pale.
“She came with a man.”
David showed her Nathan’s photograph.
The receptionist nodded.
“That’s him.”
David stared at the screen.
“Where did they go?”
May you like
The receptionist pointed to a handwritten address.
CLIFFHANGER: The address was David’s childhood home—a property he had given to Vanessa years earlier.
