Chapter 5 - REBECCA
The vial disappeared.
Mara said nothing.
Grant said nothing.
That was worse.
For the next week, everything became sweeter.
Celeste gave Mara a raise.
Vivian complimented her work.
Dr. Hale stopped insulting her.
Grant even apologized.
“I was under stress,” he said.
Mara smiled politely.
Inside, every alarm in her body screamed.
People like Grant didn’t apologize.
They repositioned.
Mara started documenting everything.
Dates.
Times.
Medication.
Eli’s behavior.
Visitors.
License plates.
She wrote nothing on paper.
Instead, she created voice memos on an old phone with no service and hid it behind a loose brick near the greenhouse.
Then one afternoon Eli came running outside.
“Mara!”
He had something in his hand.
An old photograph.
A woman on a beach holding a toddler.
Rebecca.
Eli’s mother.
“Where did you get this?”
“My room.”
“Where in your room?”
“Under my pillow.”
Mara stared at the house.
Someone had placed it there.
On the back, three words were written in blue ink.
I AM HERE.
Mara’s heartbeat slammed.
“Eli, don’t show this to anybody.”
“But—”
“Nobody. Not even Celeste.”
He swallowed.
“Okay.”
That night, Mara waited until 2:00 a.m.
She stole Mrs. Bell’s master key from the hook beside the pantry.
The service elevator opened.
She pressed B.
The doors closed.
For one second, nothing happened.
Then the elevator dropped.
The basement smelled like bleach and damp stone.
There was a hallway.
Medical equipment.
Boxes of files.
A camera in the corner.
Mara ducked behind a storage cabinet.
At the end of the hall stood a steel door.
She heard breathing behind it.
Then a woman whispered.
“Hello?”
Mara approached.
“My name is Mara.”
Silence.
Then, “Do you work for them?”
“I work in the house.”
The woman began crying.
“Is Eli there?”
Mara’s blood turned cold.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Rebecca.”
Mara gripped the door handle.
Locked.
“Rebecca Callahan?”
“Yes.”
“My God.”
“They told him I’m dead, didn’t they?”
Mara couldn’t answer.
Rebecca started hitting the other side of the door.
“Please. Please tell me my son is okay.”
“He’s alive.”
“Is Grant giving him medication?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca’s voice broke.
“He’s doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“He did it to me first.”
Footsteps sounded behind Mara.
She turned.
Dr. Hale stood twenty feet away holding a syringe.
“You really,” he said, “should have listened to the rules.”
May you like
He lunged.
Mara ran.
