metro

Chapter 1 - Dead Girls Keep Secrets

The first thing Ivy Mercer heard behind her was the hard, even strike of heels on polished wood. It followed her down the second-floor corridor of the Mercer house, cutting through the muffled music from the charity reception below as her bare feet slipped on the runner and her palm scraped along the wall for balance. By the time she looked over her shoulder, tears had blurred the framed family photographs beneath the warm wall lamps. Sabrina was still coming, the red dress sharp against the dim hallway and a wooden baseball bat hanging from her right hand.

Sabrina had stopped running, which frightened Ivy more than the chase itself because the distance between them had become small enough that she no longer needed to hurry. The bat grazed the floor once with a dry wooden scrape, and Ivy turned forward again, pushing herself toward the far end of the corridor. She reached it three seconds later and found only a cream-painted wall with a narrow console table pressed against it. There was nowhere else to go.

“Mommy! Help me! Please!”

Ivy spun around and pressed her back to the wall, breathing in painful little gasps while Sabrina approached with the composure she had worn downstairs among the guests. One strand of dark hair had fallen across her cheek, but otherwise she looked almost untouched by the pursuit. She stopped several feet from Ivy and studied the child. When she spoke, her voice was low enough that Ivy had to stop crying to hear it.

“Dead girls keep secrets, sweetheart.”

Ivy’s fingers closed around something hard inside the fold of her pajama pocket, although she did not take it out. Her eyes stayed on the pale wood of the bat as Sabrina stepped closer, and her knees bent as though her body were trying to make itself smaller against the wall. Sabrina shifted both hands onto the handle. Then she raised the bat over one shoulder.

A hand caught Sabrina from behind by the hair and the back of her dress before she could swing. Claire Mercer pulled hard enough to drag her off balance, and Sabrina struck the floor on her hip while the bat bounced against the wood and skidded toward the opposite baseboard. Claire did not follow her down or strike again; she moved immediately to Ivy, dropped to her knees, and wrapped both arms around the child while turning her own body between Ivy and the woman in red. Ivy clutched Claire’s coat and shook so violently that Claire could feel every breath against her chest.

“Don’t touch my daughter!”

Footsteps thundered from the stairwell before Sabrina had fully pushed herself upright. Daniel Mercer rounded the corner with two security men behind him and stopped at the sight of the hallway: his wife on the floor, the baseball bat several feet away, Claire kneeling at the dead end with Ivy in her arms. His face tightened as he tried to understand a scene whose beginning he had not witnessed. Sabrina saw that hesitation and seized it immediately, lifting one hand to her scalp as her expression changed from fury to frightened disbelief.

“She attacked me! She tried to kill me! Daniel, I heard Ivy screaming, came upstairs, and Claire grabbed me from behind before I even knew she was there.”

Daniel took one step forward, then stopped when Claire shifted Ivy farther behind her shoulder. The two security men remained near the corner, waiting, while Daniel looked from Sabrina to the bat and finally to his daughter’s tear-streaked face. His voice stayed controlled, but the strain beneath it was clear.

“Everybody stays exactly where they are. Sabrina, don’t touch the bat. I’m calling the police, and nobody leaves this floor until they get here. Claire, tell me only what happened up here.”

Claire kept both hands around Ivy and forced herself to slow her breathing before she answered. She could see how the hallway looked to someone arriving late, so she kept her explanation narrow and pointed toward the bat. Whatever history existed between the adults could wait; the child trembling against her was the only part of the scene Claire intended to discuss.

“She cornered Ivy at the end of the hall with that in her hands. I pulled her away before she could bring it down. Your daughter was screaming for help.”

“That is not what happened,” Sabrina said, pushing herself onto one elbow. “Look at her, Daniel. She came into this house furious with me, and now she is using Ivy to make you believe whatever story she needs.”

Ivy moved before Daniel could answer. She slipped out of Claire’s arms but kept one hand wrapped around her mother’s sleeve, then stepped far enough forward that Daniel could see her clearly. Her face was pale beneath the blotchy red around her eyes, and her voice trembled when she spoke, yet she looked directly at her father instead of at Sabrina.

“No, Daddy… she said she already tried once.”

Daniel lowered himself slightly so he was closer to Ivy’s height, but he did not move toward her. His attention stayed on his daughter while the security men remained still behind him, and the confusion in his face gave way to a sharper concern. He spoke carefully, as though he understood that pushing a frightened four-year-old for answers would only make the moment worse.

“Tried what, sweetheart? Tell me what you mean.”

Ivy looked back at Claire, searching her mother’s face without receiving any instruction from her. Claire kept her expression steady and allowed the child to answer in her own time. After a few seconds, Ivy turned back toward Daniel.

“Hurting Mommy.”

Sabrina started to speak, but Ivy had already reached into the fold of her pajamas. She pulled out a small black device no bigger than two adult fingers and held it in both hands, uncertain why the adults had suddenly become afraid of it. A tiny indicator light blinked near the top, and Ivy extended it toward her father.

May you like

“I have proof.”

Daniel’s attention settled completely on the object in his daughter’s hands. He had seen equipment built like that during closed security briefings for Mercer properties, compact recorders sold through professional surveillance vendors rather than ordinary consumer stores, and recognition arrived before he could hide it from the others. As he stared at the black casing beneath Ivy’s trembling fingers, the question in his face changed from what had happened in the hallway to why professional surveillance equipment had been anywhere near his four-year-old daughter.

Related Stories

Other posts