The new maid heard weeping beneath the mansion. Opening the heavy basement door, she found the missing wife, starved and chained. As gasps filled the dark room, the wife grabbed her hand, whispering, “Run before he hears you, or he’ll make you my replacement.” Suddenly, footsteps echoed on the stairs…
and ran back up the stairs as if the devil himself were snapping at my heels.
The next morning, the mountain sun felt entirely too bright, a harsh spotlight on my exhaustion. I stood in the massive, gleaming kitchen, mechanically drying crystal glasses. My mind was trapped in that dark corridor. She knew my name.
