Chapter 1
The muffled, rhythmic thumping of the bass from the grand ballroom echoed down the dimly lit service corridor. Emma Torres adjusted the crisp white apron of her housekeeping uniform, her fair, rosy skin glowing slightly under the warm wall sconces. At twenty-four, Emma possessed a gentle, soft beauty that often made her invisible to the wealthy guests upstairs. She checked her silver wristwatch, noting that the midnight champagne toast was only moments away. She smoothed her cleaning gloves, adjusting the small stud earrings she wore, and prepared to lift her heavy silver tray.
Before she could take a step, a strange, muffled scraping sound caught her attention. It wasn't the settling of the old mansion, nor was it the wind. It was frantic. Emma set the champagne tray down on a side table, her brow furrowing. The sound was coming directly from behind a massive, oversized oil painting depicting a hunting scene, mounted heavily against the corridor's brick wall.
"Is someone back there?" Emma asked the empty hallway, her voice hushed.
She stepped closer to the painting, pressing her palms against the heavy gilded frame. With a grunt of effort, her rubber-soled flats slipping slightly on the polished hardwood, Emma dragged the oversized painting aside. Behind it, carved into the ancient brick, was a narrow, rusted iron vent.
A faint, desperate cry leaked through the rusted slats. Emma gasped, pressing her ear directly to the cold metal. Suddenly, pale, trembling fingers pushed through the narrow gaps of the vent, grasping wildly at the air.
"Help," a voice whimpered from the absolute darkness within.
Emma staggered back a half-step, her heart hammering against her ribs. She recognized that voice immediately. It was Ethan Sterling, the twenty-year-old son of the estate’s owner. He had been reported missing two weeks ago.
"Ethan? Ethan, is that you?" Emma asked, dropping to her knees.
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"Please... get me out of here," Ethan begged. He was barely conscious, his voice cracked and ruined by utter exhaustion and deep, primal terror.
"Oh my god," Emma breathed, her gentle face paling in sheer horror. She looked wildly up and down the empty corridor. She needed help, but there was no time. "Ethan, hold on! I'm right here! I'm not leaving you!"
