Chapter 2 - Shadows Behind the Drywall
The darkness swallowed us whole.
Marcus let out a tiny, frightened gasp and buried his face in my coat.
I pressed my back against the wooden support beam, holding him close.
“Claire?” Marcus whimpered in the dark.
“I’m right here, buddy,” I whispered back.
My heart was hammering against my ribs.
I clicked my phone screen back on.
The pale light illuminated the dusty rafters.
I rushed to the attic trapdoor and shoved upward with all my strength.
The wooden door didn't budge.
Evelyn had locked the heavy bolt from the hallway side.
“Evelyn!” I yelled, slamming my palm against the wood.
“Let us out of here right now!”
Silence echoed through the house.
She wasn't going to answer.
I took a deep breath, forcing my voice to stay calm for Marcus.
“It’s okay,” I told him.
“My phone still has power.”
I checked the top corner of the screen.
No service.
The thick insulation and roof line were blocking the signal completely.
Panic began to creep into the edges of my mind.
David was down in the living room.
Why hadn't he heard the trapdoor slam?
Then I remembered.
David always wore noise-canceling headphones when working in his basement office.
Evelyn knew that.
She had planned this moment down to the second.
“Claire,” Marcus whispered, pulling at my sleeve.
He pointed his flashlight toward the back corner of the attic.
“Look.”
I walked over to the desk where Sarah’s binder still lay open.
Beside the desk stood a heavy wooden wardrobe wrapped in plastic sheeting.
I tore the plastic away.
Inside were Sarah’s old winter coats, her favorite dresses, and her hand-knitted scarves.
Evelyn hadn't burned them after all.
She was hiding them.
Why lie to Marcus about burning his mother’s belongings?
Why make him suffer through that grief?
I looked down at Marcus.
“Why did she tell you she destroyed these?” I asked.
Marcus looked at the floor.
“Because she told me if I mentioned my mom again, she’d destroy everything left,” he said.
“She made me watch her throw a box of photos into the fireplace.”
A wave of pure disgust washed over me.
It was psychological warfare against a nine-year-old child.
She was systematically erasing his mother to force him into submission.
I picked up the psychological evaluation again under the screen light.
I read the text carefully this time.
Dr. Aris Thorne had noted specific physical findings.
Unexplained bruising on upper arms.
Signs of severe nutritional restrictions.
Child exhibits extreme fear response toward primary female caregiver.
My blood ran cold.
Evelyn wasn't just being mean.
She was actively abusing my nephew.
I turned the paper over.
On the back was a handwritten note in blue ink.
David must not see this file before the court date.
Court date?
What court date?
My mind raced through the possibilities.
Evelyn wasn't just trying to control the house.
She was setting up a paper trail to show that Marcus was unstable.
If Marcus was deemed emotionally unstable, David would be overwhelmed.
Evelyn could persuade David to send Marcus away to a residential treatment center.
She wanted the child gone entirely.
She wanted David’s wealth and attention all to herself.
“Marcus,” I said, looking into his eyes.
“Did you go to see a doctor two weeks ago?”
Marcus nodded slowly.
“The school nurse took me,” he whispered.
“I fell at recess, and she saw the marks on my arm.”
“What marks, Marcus?”
Marcus hesitated.
He slowly pulled up the sleeve of his blue sweater.
Underneath the thick fabric were dark, yellowing bruises in the shape of fingers.
The sight made tears sting my eyes.
“She grabs me when Dad is at work,” Marcus whispered.
“She tells me if I tell Dad, she’ll leave him, and it will be my fault.”
“She said Dad would be all alone again because of me.”
I pulled Marcus into a tight hug.
“You did nothing wrong, Marcus,” I said through clenched teeth.
“I promise you, she will never touch you again.”
I stood up and began searching the attic for a tool.
In the far corner, near the brick chimney, lay an old iron crowbar.
It had been left behind by the roofers years ago.
I picked up the heavy metal bar.
The weight felt reassuring in my hand.
I walked over to the attic floorboards directly above the master bedroom closet.
The house was an older colonial structure.
The plaster and lath ceiling between the attic and the second floor was thin.
I wedged the flat edge of the crowbar between two floorboards.
I put all my weight onto the metal handle.
The old pine board cracked loud like a gunshot.
I pried the board loose and set it aside.
Underneath was a layer of yellow fiberglass insulation.
I pulled the insulation back, revealing the backside of the drywall ceiling.
I raised the iron crowbar high.
I brought it down hard against the drywall.
The plaster shattered.
Dust filled the air as a hole opened up into the dark closet below.
I smashed the opening until it was wide enough for a person to pass through.
I looked down into the closet.
It was dark, but I could see the tops of hanging clothes.
“Stay here for one second, Marcus,” I said.
I lowered myself through the hole, hanging by my hands.
I dropped quietly onto the carpeted closet floor.
I reached back up through the opening.
“Drop down, Marcus, I’ll catch you.”
Marcus didn't hesitate.
He slid through the hole into my waiting arms.
We were out of the attic.
I opened the master bedroom closet door carefully.
The bedroom was dark and quiet.
I took Marcus’s hand and crept down the hallway toward the stairs.
Suddenly, I heard voices coming from the living room below.
I paused at the top of the landing.
David was standing near the front door, wearing his coat.
Evelyn was standing close to him, adjusting his collar.
“Are you sure you have to go back to the office tonight, honey?” Evelyn asked smoothly.
“The firm needs these contracts reviewed by morning,” David said, sounding exhausted.
“Where is Claire? Did she leave?”
Evelyn put on a sad, resigned face.
“She got a phone call from work and had to run,” Evelyn lied seamlessly.
“She said she’d call you tomorrow.”
David nodded, completely believing her.
“And Marcus?” David asked.
“He’s fast asleep in his room,” Evelyn said with a soft smile.
“I gave him his warm milk. He was very tired.”
David kissed her cheek.
“You’re an angel, Evelyn,” David said softly.
“I don't know how I’d survive without you.”
My blood boiled as I watched my brother head for the front door.
If David left the house, Marcus and I would be left alone with her.
I had to stop him.
I took a step forward onto the top stair.
The ancient floorboard creaked loudly under my boot.
Evelyn’s head snapped toward the staircase.
Her eyes locked onto me standing in the hallway shadows.
Her soft, angelic smile completely vanished.
Her face twisted into a mask of pure, cold fury.
David was opening the front door.
“David, wait!” I shouted, running down the stairs.
Evelyn acted instantly.
She grabbed a heavy crystal vase from the entryway table.
Before David could turn around, Evelyn swept her own arm across the table.
She shattered the crystal vase against the hardwood floor.
Then she collapsed onto her knees among the sharp glass.
She let out a piercing scream.
David spun around in shock.
He saw Evelyn on the floor, surrounded by broken glass, crying hysterically.
He saw me charging down the stairs with Marcus behind me.
“What happened?!” David yelled, rushing to Evelyn’s side.
Evelyn looked up at David with tears streaming down her face.
She pointed a trembling finger directly at me.
“David, help me!” Evelyn sobbed.
“Claire broke into the house through the attic!”
“She’s trying to take Marcus!”
David looked up at me, his eyes wide with horror and confusion.
“Claire... what are you doing?” David demanded, standing up to block the stairs.
“She’s lying, David!” I yelled, pulling Marcus behind me.
“She locked us in the attic!”
Evelyn wept hysterically into David’s chest.
“She’s sick, David! She’s been threatening me all afternoon!”
“She told me she was going to take Marcus away because I’m not his real mother!”
David looked at me with deep betrayal in his eyes.
He stepped forward, reaching for my arm.
“Claire, give me the child,” David said sternly.
“You need to leave this house right now.”
I stepped back, holding Marcus tightly.
My own brother did not believe me.
He was totally under her spell.
I reached into my jacket pocket to pull out Dr. Thorne’s medical report.
My heart sank into my stomach.
The pocket was completely empty.
The paper had fallen out when I dropped through the attic ceiling.
I had no physical proof.
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Evelyn looked at me over David’s shoulder.
Through her fake tears, she offered me a cruel, victorious smile.
