Chapter 2 - The Soundless Torture|
"Bring him back inside," I ordered immediately, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Sarah stepped back across the threshold into the nursery. The moment Liam passed through the doorframe, his small body stiffened, and he let out another ear-shattering shriek of agony.
I grabbed Noah and walked out into the hallway myself. Instantly, his crying quieted into soft, exhausted whimpers.
"It’s the room," I growled, turning toward my security chief, Daniel Reyes, who stood near the door holding a tactical tablet. "Something inside this room is hurting them."
"Ethan, we swept this nursery three hours ago," Daniel said, his brow furrowed in confusion. "No gas leaks, no chemical residue, no mold, no electrical hazards. Air quality is pristine."
"Then sweep it again!" I shouted, my voice bouncing off the high ceilings. "Shut down the air conditioning! Turn off the smart lights! Strip the room to the bare floorboards if you have to!"
Daniel motioned for two armed guards to begin pulling down the decorative wall hangings.
As the noise of furniture being dragged echoed through the room, a tiny figure appeared at the open doorway.
It was Emma.
She was four years old, wearing flannel pajamas and clutching a worn, blue cloth rabbit. She was the daughter of Rosa Martinez, my house manager. Rosa had been Claire’s personal assistant for a decade, and after Claire died, Rosa had become the backbone of this estate—managing staff, running the household, and watching over my children like a second mother.
Emma stood in the doorway, her large brown eyes wide with discomfort. She raised two tiny hands and clamped them tightly over her ears.
"Emma, sweetheart," I said, dropping to one knee in the hallway, trying to soften my tone despite the panic consuming me. "You shouldn't be up here. Go back down to your mother."
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Emma looked up at me, her lower lip trembling.
"It’s the whistle, Mr. Ethan," she whispered softly.
