Page 69 of House of Soot

The sounds of shouting and running feet echo through the halls. The mansion is in chaos, but I can't bring myself to move. What's the point? Everything I thought was real has turned out to be lies.

Mom. The thought cuts through my spiral of self-pity. She's helpless in that hospital bed, recovering from major surgery. What if Ronan sends someone after her?

I force myself to stand on shaky legs. I have to get to her. Have to protect her. She's all I have left in this world. My stomach roils at the realization that even my mother's heart transplant is tangled up in this web of lies. Did Blaise only help get her the heart to manipulate me further?

Footsteps thunder down the hallway. I press myself deeper into the alcove's shadows. Two guards rush past, guns drawn. These men look deadly serious.

I need to think. The Keans aren't just the wealthy family with possible shady businesses. They're killers. They murdered the Ifrinns in cold blood. And now I know too much. Both Ronan and Blaise just revealed secrets that could destroy them both.

I need to get out to protect myself, my child, and my mother. I avoid the main way up the stairs, working my way through the basement. I know another way out through the old servant corridors that connect to the wine cellar.

The thunder of feet and shouts from upstairs only confirms Blaise’s prediction that people will come down to kill him. And maybe me too. I've never heard such commotion in the mansion before. Not even during the recent attacks.

My hand traces along the rough wall as I navigate the dimly lit passage. I know every corner, every hidden doorway from years of exploring as a child. Back when I thought this place was magical rather than dangerous.

I reach the old service door that leads to the east wing. The handle creaks as I turn it, and I freeze, hoping the noise doesn'tcarry. Blaise may have been lying about everything else, but he wasn't lying about the danger. I've seen the change in Ronan's eyes, the flash of cruel calculation when he struck me. The mask of the charming heir has fallen away to reveal something terrifying beneath. Perhaps I should have gone with the asshole choice instead of taking my chances on my own.

I slip through the door, easing it shut behind me. I continue through the hall toward an old storage area that I know has an exit to the back of the house. If I can just make it there without being discovered…

I’m trembling with fear. I’ve never felt more alone. For a moment, I wonder if Debbie could help me. Debbie's been my friend for years. She knows all the service corridors too. She could help me escape, maybe even help with Mom.

But like me, Debbie relies on the Keans for her livelihood. Would she choose our friendship over her security? Could I ask her to make that choice?

No. I can’t. The fewer people who know where I am, the better. I can't risk trusting anyone right now.

I reach the storage room and for a moment, I hide in the shadows, too afraid to leave. A door slams somewhere above. I flinch, pressing deeper into my hiding spot. I wonder what’s going on upstairs. Many powerful families are here. Are they aware of the chaos? Are they like the Keans, eager to kill their enemies?

Minutes tick by and slowly, the frantic energy upstairs seems to have dissipated. What does that mean? Is everyone outside looking for Blaise? Have they left in search of him outside the estate walls? Is there anyone lingering, looking for me?

I can’t stay here forever. I need to get moving. I need to get to Mom. I weave through the storage area and up the stairs, pushing through the exit hidden behind large shrubs along the house.

I’m terrified as I emerge into the night air. The mansion looms behind me. Guards patrol the perimeter, their flashlight beams cutting through the darkness. I duck low, using the hedges and flower beds I've tended for years as cover.

The path to my cottage has never felt so exposed. Every rustle of leaves makes my heart jump. But I know this garden better than anyone. I stick to the shadows of the oak trees, moving slowly to avoid detection.

A guard rounds the corner ahead. I freeze behind a rhododendron bush, hardly daring to breathe. His boots crunch on the gravel path, pause for a moment, then continue past. Only when his footsteps fade do I dare move again.

The cottage sits dark and still. No lights shine through the windows. No movement inside. I open the door and quickly enter. Inside, the cottage is exactly as I left it this morning. Empty. Quiet. The moonlight filtering through the curtains reveals nothing out of place.

I close the door behind me, careful not to make a sound. For the first time since fleeing the wine cellar, I let out a shaky breath. But I can't relax yet. This is just the beginning. I need to grab essentials, then find a way to get to my car and escape.

I take a single step into my darkened living room when a lamp flicks on revealing Ronan sitting in my mother's favorite armchair.

“You’ve never been very smart, have you, Jenna?” He rises, and it's then I notice a gun in his hand. "Running home to hide like a scared little girl is very predictable."

For a wild moment, I wish Blaise were here. But he betrayed me too, used me.

"You know, I actually forgot about your showing me that passage all those years ago. Imagine my surprise when it all came rushing back tonight." He takes a step toward me. "You were so eager to please back then. So desperate for attention."

“You acted nice so you could kill the Ifrinns? They were your friends.”

“It’s all about money and power. I should thank you for helping.”

God. How am I going to live knowing I helped him kill so many people? “I didn’t know what you planned?—”

"Of course you didn't. You never mean to cause trouble, do you? And yet somehow, you always manage to be at the center of it. First the Ifrinns, now this mess with their vengeful son."

He steps toward me. "You understand why I can't let you leave, don't you?" He sighs, as if this is all terribly inconvenient for him. "You know far too much now. About the Ifrinns, about tonight. It's really your own fault for being so… accessible to men with ulterior motives."

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