Chapter 3 - The Ghostly Whisper
Vincent stepped practically inches away from the glowing monitor, his heart hammering against his ribs. Dominic shifted his weight behind him, sensing the sudden, electrifying tension radiating from the boss.
On the screen, Clara carefully resumed the therapy. She moved his limbs with practiced, gentle precision.
Matteo’s tiny hands gripped the thick wool blanket on his lap. His knuckles turned completely white. He was fighting a massive wave of locked-away emotion. His chest began to rise and fall with rapid, natural breathing.
And then, his lips suddenly moved.
Clara froze instantly. She didn't gasp. She didn't make a sudden, fast body movement that would spook him. She simply stopped her hands and leaned her ear slightly closer to the boy’s face.
In the underground bunker, Vincent’s hands slammed flat onto the metal desk. "Turn the audio feed up," he commanded, his voice trembling for the first time in a decade. "Dominic, max the volume in his room. Now."
Dominic rapidly punched the keys on the soundboard. Static hissed through the speakers, followed by the ambient sound of the central air conditioning in the bedroom.
Matteo’s lips moved again. He was whispering something, his voice so weak, so entirely hoarse from twelve months of absolute silence, that the highly sensitive surveillance microphone could barely pick it up.
But Clara heard it.
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The calm, collected caretaker’s face instantly changed. The warmth in her eyes was abruptly replaced by a sharp, calculating shock.
👉 Clara had just heard the boy's terrifying secret, but her next instinct proved exactly how dangerous the situation was.
