“The better question is, who are you?” Her voice didn’t soften. “You’re the one who broke into my home.”
I tried to wrap my head around it. Any of it.
“I...I’m sorry,” I said, shaking off the fog in my brain. “I’m Emily Winthrop. Daniel’s wife.”
A slow smile tugged at her mouth. Then she laughed—low and dry. “You’re his wife. You married him.”
“You know Daniel?”
She waved the question away like it bored her. “Pfff.”
Of course she knew him. This was his house. How could someone live beneath it without him knowing?
But then, what if he had no idea? Daniel hadn’t spent time here in years. But Hudson, he lived here. Maybe this was Hudson’s doing.
My eyes swept the room again. It was comfortable and warm, but there were no windows, just stone walls, locks, and soft lighting. Like a prison. As if someone had tried to turn captivity into something that resembled home.
“Are you locked in here?” I asked.
“When I want to be.”
That didn’t make sense.
“Who put you down here?”
She stared at me for a moment, her expression unreadable, her eyes sharp and calculating.
“I can help you.” My words came fast, almost desperate. “Get you out of here.”
“You can’t,” she said, and in one sudden movement, she stood.
My feet moved on their own, stumbling back a few steps.
“Of course I can.” I pointed toward the open tunnel. “The door’s right there. We can just leave.”
“No, I can’t.” Her tone had shifted. It was harder now, like I was doing something wrong by offering.
“Why not?” I kept my voice calm and careful. She was getting worked up, and I didn’t want to push too far. “Come with me.”
“I said I can’t.”
None of it added up. I walked backward so I could keep an eye on her.
“Let’s go,” I said. “Come on. Quick.”
Her face twisted. “I said no!”
She lunged.
I jerked back fast, but the wall was right there. My spine hit hard, knocking the air out of me. Before I could push off or shift to the side, she was in front of me. Her body pinned me, arms on either side, breath hot and sour in the narrow gap between us. Her eyes locked onto mine. They were wide, unblinking, full of something unhinged.
“Because the monster,” she muttered frantically. “He hurts women like us.”
I swallowed, my lips barely moving. “What monster? Daniel?”
“No, not him!” Her voice cracked as she grabbed both my arms and yanked me forward. “I said the monster,” she hissed. “The monster! He hurts us!”
Her spit hit my cheeks.
