A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through Leah’s skull, dragging her toward consciousness. The world was slow to take shape around her, an endless void of blackness and muffled sounds. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, her limbs heavy and unresponsive. The taste of copper lingered on her tongue, and it took her a moment to realize it was her own blood.

  She tried to move. A searing pain shot through her temple, making her groan. Her fingers twitched against the cold, unyielding surface beneath her. Wood. She was lying on the floor. The realization sent a shudder through her. The last thing she remembered was falling, Derrick’s hand tearing her backward, her skull colliding with the staircase.

  She wasn’t dead. Not yet.

  A flickering light seeped through her closed eyelids. Weak, artificial. Not daylight. Leah forced herself to open her eyes, the dim glow of an overhead bulb revealing her surroundings.

  The basement.

  Dread curled through her, slow and suffocating. She had never been down here before, never even seen the entrance. Derrick had always kept it locked, dismissing her questions with an easy smile, telling her there was nothing down there but old storage.

  A lie. Like everything else.

  Leah tried to sit up, every muscle in her body protesting the movement. Her arms wobbled as she pushed herself upright, and a wave of dizziness nearly sent her toppling over again. She pressed a hand to her throbbing head, wincing at the sticky warmth coating her fingertips. The wound was bleeding, but not heavily. Not enough to kill her.

  Not yet.

  The room stretched around her in eerie silence. Concrete walls, lined with shelves cluttered with old boxes and dust-covered furniture. A rusted sink in the corner. A single, naked lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, casting flickering shadows that made the space feel alive. And then—

  The far side of the room.

  A metal door. Heavy. Industrial.

  Leah’s stomach turned. The sight of it sent a primal fear clawing up her throat. This wasn’t just a storage room. This was something else.

  She wasn’t alone.

  The realization hit her like ice water. Slowly, her gaze shifted, following the dark shapes in the corner of the room. Shapes that weren’t furniture. Weren’t boxes.

  Bodies.

  Leah clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the cry that threatened to escape. She forced herself to look. To really see. The first shape was slumped against the wall, a woman’s body, skeletal and still wrapped in the tattered remains of a wedding dress. The fabric was yellowed, stained with time and something darker. Her head lolled to one side, empty eye sockets staring at nothing.

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  Leah’s stomach twisted violently. She choked back bile as she turned away, her eyes darting to the other figures. More women. More dresses. Some reduced to bone, others mummified by time. Their silence was deafening, an accusation without words.

  He had kept them here. Locked them away like forgotten possessions. Until they wasted away.

  Until they died.

  A fresh wave of panic crashed over her, drowning her lungs, making it impossible to breathe. She scrambled backward, pressing herself against the wall, as if she could melt into the concrete and disappear.

  Footsteps.

  Slow, deliberate.

  Leah froze.

  The sound came from above. From the door at the top of the basement stairs.

  Derrick.

  She couldn’t see him, but she could feel his presence, a dark weight pressing down on her chest. Her pulse hammered against her ribs as she listened to the way his footsteps stopped. Paused. Then continued, descending one step at a time.

  She had to move. Now.

  Leah’s gaze darted around the room, desperate for an escape. There was none. No windows, no vents. The only way out was the stairs. The stairs Derrick was now descending.

  Her hands fumbled over the floor, searching for something—anything—she could use as a weapon. A rusted wrench. A broken wooden beam. A jagged piece of metal from a discarded shelf.

  Her fingers closed around the metal, its edge rough and uneven. It would have to do.

  The footsteps stopped just outside the door.

  Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Leah’s breath came in short, uneven bursts. She tightened her grip on the metal shard, forcing herself to stay still. To wait.

  The door creaked open.

  Derrick’s silhouette filled the doorway, the dim light behind him casting his features in shadow. He stepped forward, slow and measured, as if savoring the moment.

  “You shouldn’t have come down here, Leah.”

  His voice was calm. Too calm.

  Leah pressed herself against the wall, every muscle in her body coiled, ready to spring.

  “You ruined everything.” He took another step. The light flickered, casting his face in a grotesque mix of shadow and gold. “I didn’t want to hurt you. But you left me no choice.”

  A bitter laugh bubbled in Leah’s throat. “No choice?” Her voice shook, but there was steel beneath it. “You locked me in a room. You—” Her voice broke. “You killed them.”

  Derrick sighed, shaking his head as if she were a child throwing a tantrum. “I gave them everything. And they betrayed me. Just like you.”

  Leah’s fingers tightened around the metal. Her heart pounded so violently it drowned out everything else.

  Derrick took another step.

  She lunged.

  The metal slashed through the air, aiming for his throat, his face—anywhere that would stop him. But Derrick was fast. Too fast. He sidestepped at the last second, grabbing her wrist and twisting it brutally. Leah cried out as the shard clattered to the floor.

  Before she could react, he shoved her backward. Her head slammed against the concrete, the world spinning violently.

  Dark spots danced at the edges of her vision. Her limbs felt like lead.

  Derrick knelt beside her, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re not leaving, Leah.”

  She tried to move, to fight, but her body wouldn’t respond. He reached into his pocket, pulling out something small, metallic.

  A syringe.

  Leah’s breath hitched. “No—”

  Strong hands gripped her arm. The needle pierced her skin.

  Cold flooded her veins. The world blurred, slipping away into a haze of darkness and muffled sound.

  The last thing she heard was Derrick’s voice, low and soothing, as if whispering a lullaby.

  “Shh… go to sleep.”

  And then—

  Nothing.