Page 18 of Split

None of the books capture my interest, but the bookshelf itself does. As I’m running my hands along the wood from one shelf to the other, I notice that the seam between the shelves to the right of the fireplace doesn’t quite line up. I give it a little push, and to my surprise, it moves. Changing tact, I pull instead, sucking in a gasp when the whole shelf comes away from the wall to reveal a hidden doorway carved in the stone behind it. Wide steps beckon me down into the darkness, and I cast a wary glance at Nox, who’s sitting at my feet and looking to me expectantly.

“The first rule of every horror movie is to not go down into the dark, creepy basement, right?” I ask him, my pulse picking up speed.

Nox just cocks his head to the side, his stumpy tail wagging.

I blow out a breath, turning back toward the hidden staircase and squinting down into the darkness. “Just a peek can’t hurt, right?”

Slowly, I start forward, stepping through the doorway and descending the stairs with caution. It’s pitch black down here, but the light from above provides some illumination, my eyes adjusting to the dark as I continue down the steps.

When I reach the bottom, I realize that I’m in a tunnel of some sort. I can’t see very far ahead of me, but I can tell that it branches off in two directions, both of them looking equally dark and foreboding. It’s cold and damp down here, and the whole place just gives me the heebie jeebies, so I don’t stick around to find out where the tunnels lead. Instead, I turn around and rush back up the stairs like the chicken shit I am, swinging the bookcase back over the opening and slumping back against it as I pant to catch my breath.

Nox whines, tilting his head as he peers up at me.

“It’s scary down there,” I tell him, shuddering. “Let’s stick to places where we can see daylight, hm?”

He moves closer, nudging his head against my hand, and I reward him with more scratches behind his ear.

“Maybe we should look for the entrance to the tower instead, whaddya think?” I ask, and Nox’s responding tail wag says he likes that idea.

I’ve been thinking about that odd-looking tower at the far corner of the house ever since I saw it from outside. It would definitely give me a better vantage point to scope out the property, and it might even be high enough to give me a view ofthe nearest road out of here, which will be crucial if and when I make my escape.

I whistle for Vesper as I head out of the study with Nox trotting along at my heels, and the other dog pushes up to his feet with a grunt and follows.

We pass by the dining room on our way to the foyer, the double-doors propped open and the room sitting vacant. One glance inside launches a kaleidoscope of memories in my mind that I wish I could forget. Like the way Roman forced me to sit on his lap while he fed me. Or how he shoved me face-down onto the table, growling threats into my ear.

I have no doubt he’d act on them. He already did last night, when he crept into my bed and touched me against my will. What’s worse is that I’m honestly not sure which I’m angrier about– the way he forced himself on me, or the fact that he edged me within an inch of my life and then left me wanting. It’s all way too much to unpack right now, so I just shove that messy tangle of thoughts to the back of my mind, focusing instead on finding how to get up into the damn tower.

Vesper and Nox follow dutifully at my heels as I move into the foyer and begin climbing the stairs, following the split in the staircase to the left, like always. I’m still curious as hell about what Roman’s hiding in his wing of the house, but that’s an adventure for another day. Right now, it’s all about the tower– and since it’s technically inmywing, I should have free reign of it if I can discover how to get in.

Along my way down the hall, I peek inside the other rooms lining the west wing, finding nothing but guest suites. It’s actually a little disappointing, considering all the cool spaces I managed to discover downstairs. There’s no ballroom or library or secret passageway up here, just a series of empty bedrooms.Boring.

The final door at the end of the hallway leads into a small sitting room with an arched wooden door along the far wall, and I’m willing to bet that it’s the exact entrance I’ve been looking for. The dogs trot into the room and start sniffing around while I head straight for that door, turning the old iron knob and pushing hard to get it open.

The hinges creak in protest when it finally gives, a drafty chill hitting me in the face as it swings wide to reveal another creepy stone staircase behind it. This one’s circular, twisting upwards like the inside of a shell. I hiss out an excited “Yes!” as I step inside, blinking to adjust to the dim light filtering in through a stained-glass window halfway up the stairs. There’s no handrail, so I trail my fingers along the stone wall as I start climbing them, up and around until I finally come upon a matching arched door at the top, made of the same heavy old wood as the one below.

My heart momentarily sinks, but then I twist the knob to discover that this one is unlocked, too.Must be my lucky day.I throw my shoulder against it to push it open, and the hinges creak as it gives way to reveal a small, circular room.

There’s nothing inside it, but thereisa window. Or at least therewas. I can’t help but feel disappointed when I see it’s been boarded up, a chilly draft whistling in between the planks of wood.

The wood itself looks fresh, noticeably out of place in this room that feels like it’s from another time. I’d probably need a tool of some sort to try to pry a board off and look out from the window, but I approach it nonetheless to investigate whether any of the gaps between the boards are large enough to see through.

One of them is– just barely. I have to press up on my tiptoes to peek through, but it gives me a bird’s eye view of the estate below. I can see the perfectly clipped lawn, the roof of the garden shed, the hedges… I blink my eyes, heart pounding faster as Itake in how far the hedges extend beyond the border of the lawn. They don’t just line the far side of the property– they twist and wind, forming what looks to be a maze.

The littleclick click clickof the dogs’ nails against the floor draws my attention, and I turn to see them trotting toward me, tongues lolling out.

“What are you guys doing up here?” I laugh, stepping away from the window and bending down to greet them.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

I bolt upright at the sound of Roman’s voice, finding him standing in the doorway to the stairs, his large frame eating up the entire width of it.

I wasn’t expecting him back so soon. He’s usually gone all day when he leaves the house.

“What are you doing?” he demands, and my throat tightens in fear when I see the look in his eyes.

He looks mad.

Crazed.

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