CHAPTER 2
Vivian had entered their family like perfume covering smoke.
After Emily’s father died, Vivian became the woman who “helped” with everything.
She helped with the estate.
She helped with charity dinners.
She helped Eleanor get to doctor appointments.
She helped answer the phone whenever Emily called from base.
“She’s sleeping,” Vivian would say.
“She’s tired today.”
“She gets confused when you call too often.”
“She’s better when she doesn’t get upset.”
At first, Emily believed her.
She wanted to believe someone was taking care of her mother while she served overseas.
But then Eleanor’s voice messages changed.
They became shorter.
Softer.
Afraid.
One message came three nights before Emily flew home.
It was only seven seconds long.
“Emmy,” her mother whispered, using the childhood nickname no one else used, “please don’t let her put me outside again.”
Then the call ended.
Emily requested emergency leave the next morning.
Vivian did not answer any of her texts.
Mrs. Miller, the housekeeper, sent only one message.
Come home quietly.
That was when Emily knew.
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Something inside the mansion was not just wrong.
It was being hidden.
