Claire looked at me, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips.

“You think you understand how the world works,” Claire said.

“This house belongs to this family because of the sacrifices I made,” Claire said.

“I protected Arthur’s legacy,” Claire said.

“You protected your own pocketbook,” Daniel said.

Claire ignored him and reached into her coat pocket.

She pulled out a small, silver key and gripped it tightly in her gloved hand.

“The storm is getting worse,” Claire said, looking toward the dark hallway.

She began to walk toward the staircase, her movements deliberate.

“Stop right there,” Daniel said, stepping in front of her.

“Get out of my way, Daniel,” Claire said, her voice dropping to a low, threatening tone.

“You have no authority here,” Claire said.

“I have the truth,” Daniel said.

“The truth doesn’t pay the property taxes,” Claire retorted.

Suddenly, the lights in the house flickered violently and then went completely dark.

The room was plunged into pitch blackness, save for the occasional flash of lightning from the windows.

I heard the sound of footsteps shuffling quickly on the hardwood floor.