Page 99

I shoot up off the bed, then immediately regret my decision when my aching body protests. Still, I fight the urge to lie back down and stare at the door. Did I imagine⁠—

“Over here!”

Turning, I nearly jump again when I see a woman standing in front of the wall near the window. “What are you—” It’s the same woman from earlier, the one I asked for help, so I know she’s real.

But how is she here?

“They don’t know this house like I do, girl. Come.” She crosses over toward the bed and offers me a hand.

“You’re helping me?”

“Of course. You’re her, right? Phillip’s granddaughter?”

“How do you know?”

“You’re all over the news,” she says, then wraps an arm around my waist as I sling one across her surprisingly strong shoulders. “Come. We need to get you out of here.” She presses a hand against the wall, and the panel pops open.

I stare at her. “Secret passages?”

“It’s an old house, girl,” she says. “Lots of secrets. Kind of like its former owner. No speaking, though. This goes through all the rooms. Someone may hear us.” She helps me inside the narrow tunnel first, then comes in behind me and pulls the door closed, using a small handle.

The hallway is plunged into darkness.

I suck in a breath and place my hand against the wall just so I can assure myself it’s not closing in on me.

“Move,” she orders. “Quick now.”

I limp forward, keeping one hand on the wall but trying to make sure I don’t make any unnecessary noise. We keep moving silently through the dusty passageway, my heart hammering in my chest.

How many rooms have we passed now?

How will I get off the estate? From the pictures Ryker had, there are guards everywhere. Won’t they see me trying to leave?

Breathe and trust in God.

I do just that, though I resist the urge to take a deep breath given all the dust. Last thing I need to do is sneeze from behind a wall in a room full of guards.

Ahead, the hall turns to the left, so I follow it, every movement making my ankle scream in agony. But it’s far better than the alternative, which is a death surely waiting for me at Leon’s hands.

The woman behind me taps my shoulder so I pause.

“Stairs,” I hear her barely whisper to me.

Cautiously, I inch forward, my foot catching on the steps just below. One at a time, I descend them into the darkness, all while trying to remind myself that claustrophobia is not one of my fears.

Though right now, it’s certainly starting to feel like one.

When I reach the bottom, she taps my shoulder again. After a brief moment, a doorway swings into a dimly lit basement full of boxes and aged home décor.

“Come,” she says, then wraps an arm around my waist again and guides me over toward an old sheet-covered chair in the corner.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Phillip Prescott was a good man. Leon Smith? Not so much.” She peers out the small sliver of window. “You will have to wait until tonight to leave. Security is quieter then.”

“Why is he doing this?”

“Leon has always coveted Phillip’s estate. He was a young, hungry lawyer when they met, and he camouflaged himself to fit into Phillip’s world. I always saw through him, but Phillip wanted to see the best in him.”