Celeste stood up quickly, her chair scraping loudly against the hardwood floor.

“Alexander, this is getting out of hand,” she said, her voice rising an octave.

“You cannot honestly believe this maid’s ridiculous story.”

“This letter is an obvious fabrication.”

“She is trying to manipulate you, to secure her own place in this house, to take what belongs to us.”

Alexander did not look at her; his eyes were locked on the security screen, where the camera feeds were beginning to flicker and die, one by one.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen.

“I know my wife’s handwriting, Celeste,” Alexander said, his voice dropping to a low, lethal register.

“And I know the private seal she used when we were first married.”

He turned to his head of security, who was still waiting on the line.

“Lock it down,” Alexander ordered.

“Lock down the entire estate right now.”

Before the guard could respond, the overhead lights in the dining room flickered once, twice, and then plunged us into total darkness.

The darkness was absolute for three long seconds.