Chapter 13: The Lake House
Chapter 13: The Lake House
Police surrounded the lake house before sunrise.
Cassandra was found locked inside the basement.
Alive.
Dehydrated.
Terrified.
Her wrists were bruised, and a cut above her eyebrow had been poorly bandaged.
She told police Preston had taken her there after she confronted him about Sophie’s insurance policy.
“He said I knew too much,” she whispered from her hospital bed.
“Where is Preston?” Ortiz asked.
Cassandra shook her head.
“He left before you arrived.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“He said he needed to finish what his father started.”
I immediately thought of Sophie.
I called the hospital.
No answer from the officer outside her room.
Then the nurse picked up.
“Mrs. Ellery, Sophie’s grandfather is here.”
My heart stopped.
“Do not let him inside.”
“He has a court order.”
“The order is fraudulent.”
“He’s already with her.”
I ran.
The drive back to Chicago felt endless.
Ortiz called ahead, but my father had entered through a private medical entrance controlled by Cassandra’s family.
By the time police reached Sophie’s floor, her room was empty.
My father had taken her.
A security camera showed him pushing her wheelchair into a private elevator.
No Preston.
No mother.
Only my father.
Then a message appeared on my phone.
Come alone to the Whitmore house.
A second message followed.
A photograph of Sophie sitting in my father’s study.
She looked pale.
Frightened.
But conscious.
Beneath the image:
Bring the original trust documents.
Daniel looked at me.
“We can’t give him the documents.”
“I’m not letting him keep Sophie.”
“It’s a trap.”
“I know.”
Police prepared a tactical response.
But I refused to wait outside.
My father wanted me inside the house where I had spent my childhood learning to disappear.
So I returned.
The front door stood open.
I walked through the marble foyer.
Family portraits lined the walls.
Preston at graduation.
Preston at business school.
Preston beside my father.
There were no photographs of me after age twelve.
My mother stood in the living room.
She held a glass of wine.
“You look terrible,” she said.
“Where is Sophie?”
“Your father is speaking with her.”
“You kidnapped her from a hospital.”
“We rescued her.”
“From me?”
“From the chaos you created.”
I stepped closer.
“You knew Dad killed Mark.”
Her eyes flickered.
That was enough.
“You knew.”
“He was going to expose the family.”
“He was my husband.”
“He was temporary.”
I stared at her.
“Is that what I was too?”
Her silence answered me.
Then a child screamed upstairs.
“Mommy!”
I ran toward the staircase.
My mother grabbed my arm.
“You were supposed to bring the trust.”
I pulled away.
“You were supposed to love your granddaughter.”
Upstairs, a door slammed.
Then my father shouted.
“She doesn’t leave this house!”
May you like
And Preston’s voice answered from inside the room.
“She was never supposed to leave alive.”
