Chapter 1 - The Call That Brought Walter Upstairs
For three days, Walter Hayes had been told the same thing.
Madeline was sleeping.
Madeline was exhausted.
Madeline did not want visitors.
Every explanation came from Blake.
Walter had called his daughter six times.
Twice, Blake answered.
Three times, the calls went unanswered.
The sixth time, Walter received a text from Madeline’s phone.
I’m okay. Please give me space. Blake is taking care of me.
Walter almost believed it.
Madeline had spent years accusing him of being too protective. If she wanted space from her father, Walter knew he had to respect it.
Then, at 10:18 that morning, his private phone rang.
An old landline number from the mansion appeared on the screen.
Walter answered.
“Madeline?”
For a second, nothing.
Then his daughter’s voice came through so faintly that he almost did not recognize it.
“Dad…”
Walter stood immediately.
“What happened?”
A breath.
Then:
“Come now.”
Footsteps sounded somewhere near her.
Madeline whispered something Walter could not hear.
The line went dead.
Walter called back.
No answer.
He drove to the mansion without calling Blake.
Thirty-one minutes later, Walter reached the upper floor.
The hallway was unnaturally quiet.
The bedroom door stood open.
Blake was already standing in it.
As if he had been waiting.
Walter strode forward.
Blake immediately stepped directly into his path.
“WAIT—LET ME EXPLAIN.”
Walter did not answer.
His eyes had already found Madeline.
His thirty-two-year-old daughter lay weakly against the tall upholstered bed, chestnut-brown hair loose around her pale face. Her dusty-rose silk pajamas were wrinkled. Several dark bruises were visible along her lower legs.
Walter forcefully moved past Blake.
He reached the bedside and pulled the cream blanket slightly away from Madeline’s arm.
More bruises.
One across the forearm.
Another near the wrist.
Walter’s expression hardened instantly.
“WHO DID THIS TO MY DAUGHTER?”
Madeline’s lips parted.
No answer came.
Instead, her eyes moved toward Blake.
Walter noticed.
Blake noticed Walter noticing.
Blake stepped closer and pointed toward the floor.
“SHE FELL. I TRIED TO HELP HER.”
Walter looked back at Madeline.
She lowered her eyes.
That frightened him more than the bruises.
He bent down and reached beneath her shoulders, preparing to lift her.
Blake suddenly grabbed the front of Walter’s midnight-navy suit and yanked him backward.
“YOU’RE NOT TAKING HER!”
Walter turned.
One powerful right hand struck Blake across the face.
THUD!
Blake flew backward into the upholstered armchair.
The chair tipped sideways.
Blake crashed onto the floor beside it and remained there.
Walter did not approach him again.
He turned immediately back to Madeline.
One arm slid carefully beneath her back.
The other went beneath her knees.
He lifted her securely against his chest.
Madeline winced and gripped the front of his black shirt.
Walter stared down at Blake.
“SHE’S LEAVING WITH ME.”
Blake breathed hard beside the overturned chair but did not rise.
Walter turned toward the doorway.
Then Madeline’s fingers tightened suddenly against his suit.
Walter looked down.
She was staring into the hallway.
Not toward the stairs.
Above the opposite wall.
Walter followed her gaze.
A small security camera sat high across from the bedroom entrance.
Madeline’s lips trembled.
“DAD… CHECK THE HALLWAY CAMERA.”
Silence.
Walter slowly turned back toward Blake.
The anger vanished from Blake’s face.
His skin turned deathly pale.
For the first time since Walter entered the room, Blake looked frightened.
Walter looked at the camera again.
Then at the bruises on Madeline’s arm.
Then back at Blake.
May you like
Whatever explanation Blake had prepared when Walter entered the bedroom—
the hallway camera had just made him afraid to give it.
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