Chapter 5
Z
The servant passages were narrow, claustrophobic tunnels hidden behind the mansion’s velvet-draped walls.
I held a small penlight between my teeth, clutching Lucas's hand in my left and Leo's in my right as we hurried down the dust-covered wooden stairs. The smell of smoke was already beginning to drift through the floorboards above us—sweet, heavy, and laced with gas accelerant.
Julian wasn't waiting for morning. He was starting the fire now.
"Claire, it's hot," Lucas whimpered, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"I know, sweetie. Keep moving, almost there," I urged, keeping my voice steady despite the sheer terror clutching my throat.
We reached the bottom of the hidden stairs, emerging into the cold glass expanse of the east conservatory. Tropical plants towered around us in the shadow, their leaves rattling against the glass walls as thunder boomed outside.
Through the towering windows, I could see the flames creeping up the roof of the main mansion structure, painting the dark night sky in horrific shades of orange and red.
"Stop right there, Nanny."
I pulled the twins behind me instantly.
Standing near the conservatory exit, holding an iron fire poker, was Mrs. Harper. Her face was smudged with soot, her eyes red and wild with horror.
"Margaret," I said slowly, holding my hands up in a peaceful gesture. "Step aside."
"I didn't know!" she sobbed, tears cutting clean lines through the soot on her cheeks. "Julian told me it was just to make Vincent realize he couldn't handle the children anymore! He said he would send them to a private clinic in Switzerland to get better! I never wanted this!"
"Then help us!" I pleaded, taking a cautious step forward. "They are burning the house down with everyone inside! Julian is going to kill us all to cover his tracks!"
"He's blocking the stables," she gasped out, trembling violently. "Julian's men... they have guns at the main gate. Your car won't make it out even if Vincent opens the gate!"
"Then how do we get out?" I demanded.
Margaret looked at Lucas and Leo, her expression twisting with immense guilt and heartbreak. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out an old brass key.
"The wine cellar," she whispered. "There's an old underground utility tunnel that connects to the caretaker's cottage outside the perimeter fence. It was built during Prohibition. Julian doesn't know about it. Only the old staff did."
Before I could take the key, the conservatory glass door shattered inward with a violent crash.
Dr. Blake stepped through the broken frame, soaked from the rain, holding a heavy silver revolver.
"Give me the key, Margaret," Blake growled, pointing the gun straight at her heart. "You've been a blundering idiot from the start. Don't make this your last mistake."
"Run!" Margaret screamed, throwing her body full force into Dr. Blake.
The gun went off with a deafening BANG.
Margaret gasped, tumbling to the ground with Blake as the fire poker clattered against the stone tiles.
"Claire, GO!" she screamed, holding Blake’s arms with frantic, dying strength.
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the twins by their arms and sprinted toward the wine cellar door at the end of the corridor. Behind us, another gunshot echoed, followed by a heavy, terrifying silence.
I shoved the key into the heavy oak door of the wine cellar, turned it, and threw the boys inside, slamming and bolting the door behind us just as heavy footsteps began pounding down the hallway outside.
We were in the dark again, surrounded by thousands of vintage bottles lining stone walls.
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"Claire..." Leo squeaked, his voice trembling violently. "Where is Daddy?"
As if in answer to his question, a massive explosion shook the entire mansion above us. The stone ceiling cracked, dust and debris raining down on our heads as the lights flickered and died completely.
