Chapter 2 - Beneath the Oak
Lucinda dragged the frightened seven-year-old into a forgotten wing of the estate—a quiet, mahogany-paneled parlor used primarily for storage during major galas. Heavy velvet curtains blocked out the moonlight, plunging the room into shadow.
"Why are we here?" Maisie sobbed, trying to pull her hand back, but Lucinda’s grip was like an iron clamp.
"Because you are a constant, pathetic reminder of things that do not belong to you," Lucinda whispered viciously. She pulled back a heavy oriental rug with her foot, revealing a seamless seam in the wooden floorboards. Reaching down, she engaged a hidden brass latch. A section of the floor hinged upward, revealing a dark, claustrophobic opening into the sub-floor foundations—a concealed room designed decades ago for hiding contraband.
Maisie gasped in horror as she looked into the pitch-black void. "No! Please, Aunt Lucinda, don't! It's dark! I want my daddy!"
"Your daddy isn't here to save you," Lucinda sneered. Without a shred of hesitation, she shoved the child into the opening.
Maisie tumbled down two short wooden steps, crashing onto the cold, dusty sub-floor. Before she could scramble back up, Lucinda slammed the heavy wooden panel shut above her. The lock clicked into place with a sickening finality.
Darkness swallowed Maisie whole. The muffled sound of the distant orchestra was the only proof that the world above still existed. Frantic, she beat her tiny fists against the underside of the floorboards. "Auntie! Let me out! Please!"
Above the wood, Lucinda smoothed down her emerald dress, adjusted her diamond bracelet, and leaned down close to the floorboards, her face twisting into a cruel smile.
May you like
"Stay buried where you belong," Lucinda said softly.
She kicked the heavy rug back over the panel, completely obscuring the seam, and casually strolled back toward the ballroom, retrieving a fresh glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray.
