Chapter 13 Marcus at the Door
Eli and I freeze.
Not a breath escapes either of us.
Not a blink dares to break the moment.
Nothing moves except Maya’s small hand, still pointing upstairs toward her room, toward where she insists the woman has been hiding.
“Maya,” I whisper carefully, “the lady is in your closet right now?”
She nods. “She is hiding. But she is very sad.”
A tremor shakes through my chest.
Eli gently lifts her from my arms, holding her with the protective ease of someone who has rescued before. “Princess,” he asks softly, “did she touch you?”
Maya shakes her head. “No. She only looked at me and told me to be brave.”
Eli closes his eyes for a moment, as if fighting every instinct to tear through the house and drag the intruder out with his bare hands.
When he looks at me, I see it.
The last time I saw that look was the night Kahlia disappeared. It is the expression of a man who would burn down the world to keep me alive. It is fear turned to fuel.
“Stay with Maya,” he says quietly.
“No,” I answer immediately. “I am going with you.”
He hesitates. He wants to protect me, but he also knows that nothing will keep me still while someone may be hiding in my daughter’s room.
“Sera,” he begins, and his voice cracks. “If anything touches you…”
“I am not letting you go alone. Not after everything else that has happened.”
He swallows hard, then nods once.
Mrs. Hughes backs away into the hallway. “I am going home to pray,” she whispers. “If you need anything, call out.” She moves quickly toward the back door, almost as if the house itself frightens her.
Eli adjusts Maya on his hip. “Where is her tablet?”
“In my room,” I say faintly.
“I will put something loud on for her.”
He carries her upstairs slowly, every step careful and deliberate.
Inside my bedroom, he places Maya in the center of the bed and surrounds her with pillows, creating a soft, protective barrier. He hands her the tablet and turns on a cartoon that fills the room with harmless sound.
“Stay here, no matter what you hear.”
She nods, her eyes large and frightened but trusting.
I kiss her forehead. “Mommy will be right back.”
Maya grabs my hand. “Ask her,” she whispers. “She knows.”
I turn toward the hallway. The air feels colder there.
Eli steps beside me. “Are you ready?”
“No,” I answer honestly.
But we move anyway.
We walk toward Maya’s door. The silence is thick enough to taste.
Eli reaches for the knob with slow, controlled precision.
A sound comes from the other side of the door.
Eli’s eyes darken.
He grips the knob, glances at me once to make sure I am braced, and pushes the door open.
The room is still.
But something is wrong. I feel it immediately. The air does not feel like the rest of the house.
The nightlight glows faintly beneath the dresser, casting soft light across pastel walls and scattered toys. It should feel safe. But it doesn't.
Eli enters first.
My heart pounds as I scan the bed, the toy bins, the shelves, the window.
Nothing moves.
But the closet door sits slightly open.
Eli motions for me to stay back.
He approaches the closet with a quiet, focused intensity. He places his hand on the door and pushes it open slowly.
The hinge creaks. The sound drags out, long and aching.
Inside the closet rests a row of small dresses, tiny shoes, and a basket of stuffed animals.
But the air inside is freezing.
Eli steps inside and touches the back wall.
He goes completely still.
“Sera,” he says softly, “come here.”
Fear tightens my throat. “Why?”
“Just come.”
I walk to him, my breath uneven, and step inside the closet beside him.
He takes my hand and guides it toward the wall.
Except no wall.
My fingers continue forward into darkness.
There is a hollow space behind the plaster. A cavity large enough for a person to stand inside. A space carved deliberately, hidden behind a thin façade.
My heartbeat slams against my ribs.
“Someone has been in here,” I whisper.
Eli’s voice is low and laced with anger. “Someone has been hiding in your daughter’s closet.”
A wave of nausea rushes through me. I stagger backward, pressing a hand over my mouth.
Kahlia’s warnings.
The footprints outside Maya’s window.
The postcards.
The bracelet and necklace appearing in the attic.
The blurred figure in the photo.
The missing pictures in my album.
Someone is not just watching us.
Someone is inside the house.
Eli steps out of the closet and shuts the door firmly. His breath shakes. He grabs his phone, jaw clenched so tightly it looks painful.
“I am calling the police,” he mutters.
“No,” I whisper.
He turns to me sharply. “Sera, someone was in the walls of your daughter’s room. Someone left footprints. Someone is stalking you. We are calling for help.”
“You do not understand,” I snap. “Marcus will twist it. He will say I imagined it. He will tell them I am unstable. He will say this is all part of a custody battle.”
Eli stares at me like he is trying to hold himself together.
“We can show them the wall,” he insists.
“He will say I carved it open,” I whisper. “He will say I staged it. He always finds a way to make it my fault.”
Eli sinks onto the edge of Maya’s bed.
“This is insane.”
Tears burn behind my eyes. “I know.”
He lifts his head abruptly. “No. You do not know. This is exactly how it started before.”
I freeze.
“Before?” I repeat.
He closes his eyes, cursing himself silently.
“Eli,” I breathe, “what do you mean before?”
He stands and begins pacing, running his hands through his hair.
“You are hiding something,” I say quietly.
He freezes again.
“I need you to tell me,” I insist. “Not later. Now.”
His jaw tightens painfully. “Sera…”
“What happened,” I whisper, “the night she died?”
He turns slowly.
His eyes meet mine.
He looks haunted. Broken. Terrified of the truth sitting in his chest.
“I tried to tell you once,” he says, his voice raw. “You begged me not to.”
My breath catches. “When?”
“The night we fought,” he says. “The night before she disappeared.”
My knees almost give out. “Eli…”
“It was not just a fight,” he whispers. “You begged me not to repeat what she told me.”
“What did she say?” I ask, my voice breaking.
He opens his mouth.
But before he can speak, the front door slams open downstairs.
Footsteps thunder inside.
Eli’s face goes pale.
“You locked that door,” he says.
“Yes,” I whisper.
A voice calls up the stairs.
“Seraphina!?”
Marcus.
His voice is inside my house.
Coming closer.
Eli reacts instantly.
“Get behind me.”
I move because I cannot breathe. I cannot think. My body responds on instinct.
Maya screams from my bedroom.
And the truth slams into me with devastating clarity.
Whoever was hiding in the walls…
Is no longer alone.