Chapter 2 - The Cry Behind the Fresh PlasterThe basement was damp, smelling heavily of ancient moss and stored wine. Mrs. Man—the elderly housekeeper who had served the Cap family for over twenty years—stood frozen at the far corner of the cellar. Beside her, her son, Cuong, held his flashlight high.
A faint, heart-wrenching cry echoed through the dark. It wasn't the whistling wind; it was the desperate sob of a child—frail, broken, and running out of strength.
"Mother... is that really a child?" Cuong whispered, his hands trembling.
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The beam of light swept across a newly plastered brick wall. White mortar dust was still scattered across the damp stone floor. Someone had hastily sealed off a hidden recess just last night. Mrs. Man remembered Yen—the billionaire’s new wife, 25 years his junior—walking down to the cellar at 2:00 AM wearing dirty rubber gloves. At the time, Yen claimed she was looking for a vintage wine to soothe her insomnia.
"Get the crowbar over there!" Mrs. Man ordered under her breath. She knew that if they were caught, they would be fired—or worse. But a mother's conscience refused to let her walk away.
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