Chapter 1 - Three Knocks Beneath The Barn“Daniel… don't let her see me.”
I stopped breathing.
The voice came from beneath the cellar door.
Weak.
Shaking.
But unmistakably human.
Ethan buried his face against my chest.
Claire stood several feet behind us.
She had gone completely still.
The rain poured over her black coat.
Water ran down her face, but she didn't wipe it away.
She was staring at the cellar.
I looked at her.
“Who is down there?”
Claire shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Another knock came from beneath the floor.
Three slow knocks.
Then silence.
I grabbed the old iron handle.
It didn't move.
Locked.
I turned toward Claire.
“Where's the key?”
“I don't have one.”
“You've lived on this ranch for three years.”
“I told you, I don't know.”
Ethan suddenly grabbed my sleeve.
“Dad.”
I looked down.
His little face was pale.
“It's Mommy.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
He pointed toward the cellar.
“The woman I heard before.”
Claire stepped forward.
“Ethan is confused.”
I turned sharply.
“Don't speak for him.”
She stopped.
That was the first time I'd ever spoken to her like that.
Something changed in her expression.
Fear.
Real fear.
Daisy suddenly pawed at the mud beside the door.
I crouched.
The white horse scraped the ground again.
I brushed away the wet soil.
Something metallic appeared.
A key.
I picked it up.
Claire immediately stepped toward me.
“Daniel, don't.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
She said nothing.
I inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Ethan tightened his arms around me.
I opened the cellar door.
A terrible smell rose from below.
Damp earth.
Old wood.
Something rotten.
I grabbed my flashlight and started down.
“Stay here with Ethan,” I told Claire.
She didn't move.
I looked back.
“Claire.”
She forced a smile.
“Of course.”
I descended the narrow stairs.
Halfway down, I heard breathing.
Then a whisper.
“Daniel?”
I froze.
That voice.
I knew it.
I had heard it every night in my dreams for three years.
“Sarah?”
Silence.
Then:
“Please…”
I reached the bottom.
The flashlight beam moved across the dark room.
There was an old chair.
A mattress.
A bucket.
A blanket.
And a woman sitting against the stone wall.
Her hair was tangled.
Her face was thin.
Her wrists were marked from restraints.
But her eyes…
They were Sarah's.
My wife's eyes.
The woman I had buried three years ago.
I dropped the flashlight.
“Sarah?”
She began crying.
“Daniel…”
I couldn't move.
“You're alive.”
She nodded.
Then she whispered:
“She told me you would never believe me.”
Behind me, I heard footsteps on the stairs.
Claire.
Sarah's eyes widened.
“Don't let her see me.”
I turned.
Claire was standing halfway down.
Her face had lost all color.
May you like
And in her hand…
Was a second key.
