“Exactly as planned,” Evan said, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat.

Lorenzo shoved him hard against the wall, the plaster cracking slightly under the impact.

“Shut up,” Lorenzo hissed. “Move.”

We stepped into the grand corridor of the east wing, the high ceilings lost in the shadows.

The only light came from the tall, arched windows that overlooked the dark courtyard below.

A heavy silence hung over the mansion, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder over the ocean.

As we approached the turn that led to the nursery wing, a floorboard creaked somewhere ahead of us.

Lorenzo stopped instantly, pulling Evan back into the shadow of a large marble bust.

I stood close to the wall, my heart thumping against my ribs so loudly I was sure they could hear it.

From around the corner, the sound of soft, shuffling footsteps grew louder.

A flashlight beam cut through the darkness, sweeping across the polished hardwood floor like a searchlight.

“Dr. Halloran?” a voice called out, weak and trembling.

It was Mrs. Bellamy, her voice cracking with fear.