Chapter 3 - The Pointing Finger
Medium shot: Leo remained crouched on the polished marble floor, his massive shoulders suddenly incredibly tense beneath his black button-down shirt. The absolute silence in the grand hallway was deafening, heavy, and completely suffocating.
He turned his head anxiously, his dark eyes frantically scanning the pristine white wall molding and the shadows cast by the crystal chandelier. He was desperately searching for a rogue nanny, a trespassing maid, or an incompetent security guard who might have spoken to his daughter.
But the hallway was entirely, completely empty. There was nobody else there.
Little Maya didn't answer his frantic whisper with words. The toddler simply raised her tiny, delicate arm. The ruffled sleeve of her bright yellow dress fluttered slightly as she extended her small index finger.
She pointed directly, deliberately, and undeniably at the large, ominous, heavy wooden double doors at the end of the corridor.
There was absolutely no dialogue. The heavy, terrifying silence stretched out, amplifying the horrifying implications of her tiny, pointing finger.
Leo’s blood ran completely, terrifyingly cold. He stared at the dark wood doors, his mind racing with impossible, horrific scenarios. The antique metal lock hardware was still perfectly engaged. The heavy deadbolts hadn't been tampered with. It was physically impossible for anyone to get in or out of that wing without his direct, explicit permission.
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But Maya was looking at the doors with absolute, innocent familiarity. She wasn't pointing at a ghost. She was pointing at a person who had spoken to her, a person who had manipulated her sweet, innocent mind into delivering a specific, deeply psychological message to her father.
👉 Read Part 4 to see the little girl approach the forbidden threshold.
