Chapter 5 - THE SIREN IN THE SILK
She tilted her head back.
The light brown hair fell away from her throat, exposing the pale skin of her neck.
She didn't look at the man in the black shirt.
She stared directly at the heavy brown wood of the double doors.
"Papa, help us!"
The scream tore through the room.
It was not a plea.
It was a jagged, violent siren of pure terror, sharp enough to cut glass.
The sound shattered the heavy silence, bouncing off the pristine white walls and the expensive artwork.
The man flinched violently.
His hands flew back as if the sound had physically burned him.
His black shoes scrambled against the carpet, trying to find traction.
He lost his balance, falling backward onto the palms of his hands.
Claire clapped both hands over her ears.
Her mother’s voice was too loud, too raw, but it broke the spell of the black shirt.
The secret is broken, Claire thought, her chest heaving.
The fire is out of the fireplace.
The man scrambled to his feet.
The veins in his neck bulged, pulsing rapidly against his collar.
He took a step toward the mother, his hand raising into the air once more.
May you like
Before his arm could swing down, the heavy oak doors exploded inward.
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