I look back down the length of the attic, judging the distance. I try to picture what part of the mansion I’m about to enter. I’ve come farther than I expected, and I’m unfamiliar with the upper levels.
I have no idea what’s on the other side.
Giving myself no time to second-guess, I slowly turn the knob.
Unlocked, the door silently swings open.
Another servant’s staircase drops below me, though this one is in much better shape. Clean, cobweb-free, with a cut-glass globe covering the light.
I don’t dare turn it on. Instead, I use the phone’s flashlight to show me the way.
A board creaks beneath my foot. I go still and listen. Hoping no one heard me. A minute passes before I’m ready to try again.
Except I move to the side, placing my foot on the edge of the tread. No squeak, so I keep close to the wall, taking one heart-stopping step at a time until I come to the first exit.
The cut in the wall is familiar, one of the panels. It should push outward, the same as those in my apartment. But I don’t know what room I’m about to enter.
Or who might be waiting.
Steeling myself, I put my phone in my pocket and hold tight to the poker. Counting to three, I ready myself.
One. Two. Three.
With a small push, the panel opens, and I find myself in a salon. Green and brown tones fill the space, with velvet-covered sofas and a large TV. The room screams of masculinity. I’m afraid I’ve gone too far and overshot Luci’s quarters.
The panel I’ve opened is in the middle of the wall, leaving me exposed and in full view. If anyone comes inside or even passes by, they’ll spot me instantly.
Slipping inside, I shut the panel, then hurry to the windows overlooking the gardens. I haven’t traveled as far as I thought, so a slight backtrack should take me to Luci’s rooms. Right next door.
If she’s not there, I can hide and wait until she returns.
Maybe her room has a landline. I can call for help. Worst-case scenario, if things go very wrong, I’ll have to make a break for the attic and bar myself inside my apartment.
Skin prickling, I walk quickly but quietly to the wide doorway. I check the hall in one direction. Then the other. The hallway is empty.
To my left, the adjoining doors mark the end of the corridor.
I’m almost there. Just a little farther.
I step out, but a male voice rises from below. Jerking back, I press against the wall. The voice is distant, only a murmur really, so I can’t tell who is speaking. After a moment, the sound subsides.
I dart down the hallway to the next open door. A quick look inside reveals a more feminine chamber, white bookshelves and vases filled with fresh flowers. But Luci isn’t here.
I run to the next door. It’s closed, but I’m certain I’m in the right place. Pushing inside, I slip through the crack and quickly close the door behind me.
Luci is lying on her bed, a book in her hands. She sits up, and I expect surprise or a smile of greeting.
Instead, her mouth firms and her expression falls flat. Rising from the bed, she puts the book on a nightstand and levels me with an empty stare.
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
44
I can’t read Luci’s expression, so I keep my approach slow and my voice calm. “What do you mean? Why should I not have come?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.” She furrows her brow and stares at the floor.
I believe Luci can be trusted, that she wouldn’t cause me any harm, but I’m not sure how much she knows about her family’s dark history. I can’t rely on her empathy. Can’t be sure I won’t lose out to family loyalty.
