Chapter 24
I closed Mochi’s cage. His feathers rustled in protest, but I latched it anyway. Better to keep him inside during a storm.
The air felt heavier than before—damp, charged. I took a slow breath, let it sit in my chest, then exhaled as I forced myself to move. The old floorboards creaked beneath me as I stepped downstairs to find Daniel.
He was in the library. A soft fire crackled in the fireplace. Orange light flickered across the walls and bookshelves. Both of his hands were in his hair, and his elbows were braced on his knees. He didn’t hear me right away.
It had hurt to see him so full of rage like that. I was still mad, and boundaries had to be set—this could never happen again. However, if we were going to heal, I had to meet him halfway. Compromise. Forgive.
“Daniel?”
His head shot up. His eyes locked on mine. “Emily.” He stood quickly. “I tried to talk to you, but I heard you on the phone with your mom, so I thought I’d give you space.”
“Did you hear the full conversation?”
“Just some of it. I’m . . . so sorry.” He shook his head, his lips parted like he had more to say but couldn’t figure out how. “How can I fix this?” he finally asked, his voice cracking. “I don’t want to fight anymore. If you really want to stay here, we will. But we have to talk about—”
His words failed him. His shoulders sagged.
I crossed the room and reached for his hand. The moment our skin touched, thunder rolled through the house—a low roar that rattled the windows and echoed in my chest. The storm had worsened quickly.
We sat on the couch together.
“I need to fix this too,” I said quietly. “My mental health has taken over our relationship. Ever since we moved in together, it’s been all about me. It wasn’t fair to you, but you still stayed. You supported me. Nobody but you ever did that for me.”
“Emily,” he whispered. Then he sighed.
“I know the last few months have been brutal for you,” I continued.
“And part of me just wants to keep lying to you about how bad I really got. But I can’t.
If I want to get better, really get better, I have to be honest. I refuse to end up like my parents, living in denial, pretending nothing’s wrong.
It destroyed everyone close to them, and I can’t do that to you. ”
“Emily, I need to tell you some—”
“Please.” I looked at him. “Let me talk. It’s important.”
A tear spilled. I wiped it fast, not wanting to fall apart just yet.
“I think—” My voice caught. I had to start again. Calm myself. Find whatever strength I still had left. “I think there’s a woman in the basement.”
The words hung in the air.
“Because if there isn’t . . .” I held his gaze, though every part of me wanted to look away.
My heart was thudding so hard, it felt like it might bruise my ribs.
“Because if there isn’t, then it means I’m the one who hurt Rascal.
And if that’s true, I need help. I need to check myself into a psych hospital for a while. To get better.”
The tears streamed freely now, warm and blinding.
Daniel pulled me into his arms and held me tight.
His scent hit me instantly: clean clothes, wood smoke, something uniquely him.
The pressure of his hold made it hard to breathe, but in a strange way, it calmed me.
His body was a barrier keeping everything else out.
“You didn’t hurt Rascal,” he said, his voice breaking. “How could you even think that?” His arms tightened, as if letting go meant losing me for good.
I pulled back, needing to see his face. “I feel so lost,” I whispered through the tears. “So tired.”
“I know,” he murmured.
“I don’t even know who I am anymore. Or maybe I never did.”
“You’re my wife,” he said softly. “And I’m your husband. We’re family. That’s who we are.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. It offered a mix of sadness and hope.
Daniel brushed his thumb gently across my cheeks, wiping away the tears. His touch made everything ache worse and feel safer at the same time.
“We have each other, Emily. That’s more than a lot of people have. Even if we’ve both been through hell.”
I nodded. “Can you . . .” I had to swallow.
“Can you come down to the basement with me?” It came out thin, almost a whisper.
“I need you to do this for me. Please, Daniel.” My hand went to his cheek.
“I don’t think I can take much more. I’m breaking.
I’m talking to a woman in the basement that no one can convince me isn’t real.
And then all these new flashbacks. My scar, me running in a storm like the one outside right now, with blood all over me.
I swear this is the only thing I’ll ever ask of you.
I swear it on my life. It’s not worth much right now, but still. I swear it on my life.”
I took a deep breath as he stared at me.
Why was he fighting this? I wasn’t asking for much. Just one thing. Then again, maybe I’d asked for everything. Maybe he was just as afraid as I was. Afraid this was the moment I’d finally fall apart.
Another crack of thunder rattled the room as Hudson stepped into the library. His soaked clothes clung to him. When he saw us, his face darkened. Something in his expression shifted into high alert.
“The storm hit much faster than the weather report said,” he told us, his voice sharp with concern. “It’s bad out there. The mainland has already lost power. Emergency services are overwhelmed. Fires, medical calls, the whole system is under strain.”
Daniel turned toward him. “So we’re stuck?”
Hudson nodded grimly. “The storm’s heading right for us. We might take a few lightning hits too, but the house is equipped with a solid lightning rod system. We’ll be safe. As long as we stay inside.”
Something about it all made my skin crawl. The tension in the air wasn’t just from the storm. My gut twisted.
“It’ll be loud when lightning hits,” Hudson warned. “And we’ll lose power. But the backup generators will kick on instantly.”
I turned to focus back on Daniel. “So? Are you coming down there with me?”
Daniel covered my hand with his. The panic in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a strange calm. His gaze drifted to Hudson, who’d been watching us. They locked eyes.
Then Daniel looked at me. “All right,” he said. “Let’s go to the basement.” His voice was clear, steady.
Hudson froze, eyes widening. “The basement? No, Daniel. You can’t.”
“Let’s go,” Daniel repeated, louder this time.
If this were a thriller novel, I’d have let out the clichéd breath I didn’t know I was holding. Instead, I rose from the couch, the relief of Daniel’s support making me move quick and light.
“Daniel, can I talk to you?” Hudson’s tone was sharp. Almost desperate.
“Hudson,” Daniel said, meeting his eyes as he rose. “We can’t keep going like this.”
“Can’t keep going like this?” I echoed. “What do you mean?”
“Daniel, stop this right now,” Hudson snapped, quickly crossing the room and standing before Daniel like a threat.
“No. It’s over, Hudson. She thinks she hurt Rascal.
My wife—the kindest, most selfless person I know—thinks she hurt that little dog.
” Daniel’s voice cracked slightly. He spread his arms, motioning at the space around us.
The Breakers. “All of this, it’s too much for her. And for me. Too much for all of us.”
“What she needs to do is leave. You both do,” Hudson argued, his jaw tight. “Right after the storm. Go back to your old lives. Give it time, and you’ll both find your way back.”
“Daniel.” My voice cut into the conversation. “What’s going on?”
“She won’t get better unless I show her the truth,” Daniel countered.
“Yes, she will,” Hudson countered, trying to slip back into that calm, reasonable tone of his. “With time. Far away from here.”
“Let’s go, Emily.” Daniel reached his hand toward me.
I took it, lacing my fingers in his. Together, we began walking.
Hudson stepped in front of us to block the way again.
“There’s no woman in the basement, Emily.
And it’s not safe to go down there.” His eyes darted between us.
“Actually, we can’t go down there anyway.
I think I lost the key to the door. Probably dropped it outside somewhere.
Silly old man, right?” He gave a short, awkward laugh.
“Just tell me where the key is,” Daniel insisted.
“We don’t need the key,” I said.
“What?” Hudson turned toward me.
“There’s a hidden corridor. In the pantry room.” I nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “The woman in the basement told me about it.”
Daniel and Hudson exchanged wide-eyed glances.
“She can get out?” Daniel asked, fear edging his voice.
“Wait… so there is a woman down there?” I was stunned. Thunderstruck.
“There’s no time,” Hudson said as thunder shook the house. “She can get out?”
It took me a moment to focus, to move past the shock of what I’d just heard—the confession that a woman was actually in the freaking basement.
“Yes. She told me that the first Winthrop built the hidden corridor, and nobody but her and the monster know about it. She insists a monster lives here. Somewhere in this house.”
My eyes narrowed at Hudson. “She says the monster is a man who hurts women.”
The color drained out of Hudson’s face. “Oh, God. She can get out!”
The energy in the room shifted, like the walls themselves had gone still.
“Show me the hidden corridor,” Hudson said. “Now.”
I froze. “Wait. You believe me?”
Daniel stepped forward and gripped my arms. His touch wasn’t rough, but it was firm. “Emily, show us the corridor. Now.”
My mouth opened. A million thoughts, questions, and accusations scrambled to come out, but none did.
Because lightning struck the house.
A crack of sound slammed through the space like a bomb. The shockwave shook the floors. It wasn’t just thunder. It sounded like something had exploded right outside the windows.
And the lights snapped off.
Panic surged in the dark. Our faces were lit only by the flickering fire.