Page 108 of Bind Me

My hands are shaking as I fumble with the car keys and get into the driver’s seat. Chowder is frantic, his small body trembling with fear as he looks up at me.

“You find Sasha?”

I take a deep breath. “We need to find a hidden room, Chowder. Maybe, just maybe, we can find a solution. Maybe we can save her.” I reach over and scratch his head. Chowder rushes over to my lap, clinging to me, and I sense the poor thing shaking.

I throw the car into gear, the tires screeching as we peel out of the parking lot.

“Go faster if it saves Sasha,” he urges. “Why you so slow?”

I grit my teeth, pushing the pedal to the floor, the city blurring past us in a haze of colors. My thoughts are a chaotic jumble of desperation. I can’t lose her, not like this. Not to Lilia.

We crash into the driveway, the car skidding to a stop as I leap out, Chowder close on my heels. Together, we sprint into the house, the door slamming shut behind us as we race to the basement.

“It has to be here somewhere,” I mutter, my voice a low rumble of urgency as I search the walls, my hands tracing every surface, every nook and cranny. I’m frantic, needing to find the damn room.

The basement is dimly lit, shadows stretching across the floor as I work, my heart pounding with every passing second. I can sense the clock ticking, and after an hour of nothing, my insides are ice, and I collapse against the sacrificial table.

Then I feel it… a faint breeze against my back, a whisper of air coming from somewhere behind me. I twist around, my fingers brushing against the stone floor and where the stand meets, and there it is—a hidden seam, a concealed entrance.

My heart leaps in my chest as I push against it, the floor easily shifting with a low creak, revealing a set of dark stairs leading down into the depths. Chowder is at my side, peering into the shadows.

“What is that?” he says.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I breathe as I stare into the darkness. This is it. The secret room.

We descend, the light above fading as we plunge deeper into the bowels of the mansion. Dust hangs in the air, the scent of old paper and forgotten secrets filling my lungs as we reach the bottom. I find a string hanging from the ceiling near the entrance, and I pull on it, recognizing it instantly. The light in the room flicks on. Nearly every room in the mansion had these until I had them updated.

The room is a mess, papers and books scattered across the floor.

“Why so messy?” Chowder asks, staring at the chaos around us.

“My grandfather was trying to find something down here,” I reply. I run my fingers over the books and papers scattered across a table.

I start rifling through the stacks of papers, flipping through books filled with scribbled notes, searching for anything that might give me a clue about Sasha or what my grandfather was involved in. Every name, every date, every location feels like a thread, and I’m hoping they will lead to an understanding of how to reverse what’s been done.

I find a ledger filled with names and dates, meticulously recorded alongside locations. There’s another book with names of ships and their charted paths.

Wait a minute…

I’m thinking back to the news articles Sasha was investigating, of boats being targeted by sirens, of sailors killed and everything precious stolen. I flip the book pages madly, and there are so many entries. There are other books, too, older, fading… There must be years’ worth of records.

My heart sinks as I realize the enormity of what I’m holding.

This wasn’t just a business; it was a carefully orchestrated operation targeting ships, and what’s the bet the names are mermaids who are changed into sirens. Which tells me they must be controlled somehow. Forced to board ships and kill sailors, stealing anything of value.

It’s one thing to have sirens randomly attacking a boat, but these books with records tell me there was nothing accidental about those attacks.

And my grandfather must have been involved.

“Son of a bitch!” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper as I stare at the names. I slump down heavily on a creaking chair. My grandfather’s involvement, Lilia’s betrayal—it’s all connected. The vision of my grandfather wanting to leave this business makes sense now. He wanted out to start a family, to stop the death and destruction he and Lilia caused.

It guts me to think he’s not innocent in this ordeal.

As I sift through the papers, Chowder’s falling asleep on an open book in front of him. But my attention is caught by something colorful on those pages.

“Hey, can I look at that?” I ask, my curiosity piqued. I slide it out from under him as he shifts onto his side, curling up.

There’s a hand-drawn image of a round pendant, beautiful with colored stones. The longer I study it, the more familiar it seems. I blink at it, narrowing my gaze as it comes back to me.