Chapter 4: The Ticking Clock
Emma held her breath until her lungs burned. The dust under the bed tickled her nose, threatening to force a sneeze that would end her life. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Darling?" William's booming voice suddenly echoed from the hallway. "Isabella? The fireworks are about to start! You’re missing the grand finale!"
The bare feet beside the bed shifted. Isabella let out a sharp, irritated sigh.
"Coming, William!" she called out, her voice instantly shifting from a venomous threat to a sweet, musical lilt. She walked away from the bed, slipped into a pair of heels, and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
Emma scrambled out from under the bed, gasping for air. She had the fob. Now, she just needed the perfect distraction.
She checked her watch: 11:55 PM. The fireworks display over the estate's private lake was scheduled for midnight. The booming explosions would drown out any noise, and every guard and guest would have their eyes on the sky. It was now or never.
She raced down the back stairs, bypassing the kitchen entirely. She grabbed a heavy canvas laundry bag and threw in a flashlight, a bottle of water, and a heavy iron wrench from the utility closet—just in case the fob didn't work.
As she sprinted toward the staff hallway on the first floor, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, jerking her backward.
Emma gasped, raising the wrench.
"Whoa, whoa! Easy, Emma!"
It was Marcus, one of the junior security guards. He looked at the wrench, then at her terrified face. "What are you doing? The fireworks are starting. You're supposed to be clearing the veranda."
"Marcus, please," Emma pleaded, her voice breaking. "You're a good man. You have a little girl, right? Please. Turn around. Walk away. If you stop me right now, a child is going to die."
Marcus blinked, confused. "What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk?"
"Ethan isn't in Maine," Emma said fiercely. "He's in the walls. Isabella has him."
Marcus stared at her for a long, agonizing moment. The first massive firework exploded outside, rattling the windowpanes and painting the hallway in flashes of neon red and blue. Marcus looked toward the ballroom, then back at Emma. He slowly raised his hands and stepped back.
May you like
"I didn't see you, Torres," Marcus muttered, his face pale. "But if you're crazy, you're on your own."
"Thank you," Emma whispered, and bolted toward the exposed brick wall.
