Rosa couldn’t answer, her lips trembling, but Eleanor stepped forward with a cold, twisted smile. “The one that should have stayed dead.”
I felt the world tilt beneath my feet. My heart raced as the realization hit me like a brick. That wasn’t just a threat—it was a confession. Everything I thought I knew was wrong. I stumbled backward, grasping for clarity, for understanding, but it was slipping through my fingers.
As if on cue, my phone buzzed again in the other room. One of my hidden cameras had transmitted another alert from the basement. Motion detected. My hands trembled as I grabbed my phone, opening the feed with shaky breaths.
On the screen was an old, rusty crib, and inside sat a little boy, maybe five years old. He looked up at the camera, his eyes a mirror image of Matthew’s. I froze, heart pounding as he whispered, “Mom…”
