Chapter 3 - The Sound Behind the Bookshelf
Mr. Duca stopped cold in the middle of the study.
The words hung in the warm air of the room like a heavy weight. His mind flashed to Grace Harper—Mia’s mother—a hardworking, quiet maid who had served the estate for two years without ever missing a shift. He realized in an instant why the six-year-old girl was in his private study at midnight. Grace was incapacitated with fever in the servants' quarters, and Mia, terrified that her family would lose their only source of income, had snuffed out her own fears and snuck upstairs to finish her mother's duties.
Mr. Duca looked down at Mia's red, exhausted hands, then at the peaceful infant strapped securely to her small back. A fierce, protective instinct flared deep within his chest—a feeling he hadn't experienced in years.
He was about to kneel beside her and tell her that she and her family were safe, when Mia’s expression suddenly changed.
Her tear-filled eyes widened. She slowly turned her head away from Mr. Duca, her gaze fixing on the massive, floor-to-ceiling library bookcase that stretched along the far wall of the study. The shelves were filled with thousands of antique leather-bound volumes, framed photos, and heavy oak moldings.
Mr. Duca noticed the sudden shift in her posture. His sharp eyes followed her gaze toward the shadowed corner of the dark wooden shelves.
Mia cautiously stepped away from the mahogany desk. She walked toward the bookcase, her small shoes silent against the Persian rug. She raised one trembling finger, pointing it directly toward a dark section of wooden shelving near the baseboards.
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Mr. Duca moved beside her immediately, his athletic frame fully alert, his stance shifting into that of a man ready for a threat. He studied the apparently solid wooden wall while Mia stared nervously at the dark gap between the books.
"Mr. Duca… why does someone keep knocking from inside there?" Mia asked quietly.
