Chapter 7
Margaret finally asked to sit in the wheelchair.
Ryder helped her carefully, with Jade guiding the footrests and supporting her shoulders. He moved slowly, terrified of causing pain.
Allison watched from the counter, arms crossed.
The spoon lay beside her on the marble.
Too close.
Ryder noticed.
He picked it up with two fingers and moved it across the island, far out of reach.
Allison’s cheeks flushed.
“You’re treating me like a criminal.”
Ryder looked at her.
“I’m treating you like someone I found standing over my mother with that in your hand.”
She flinched.
Not from guilt.
From the ugliness of hearing it stated plainly.
Margaret settled into the wheelchair, breathing hard.
Ryder crouched in front of her.
“Mom, I need you to tell me one thing. Did anyone else help Allison keep you isolated?”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
She looked toward the hallway.
Not at Allison.
The hallway.
Ryder turned slightly.
“What?”
Margaret whispered, “I heard voices.”
Allison snapped, “She hears the television and calls it voices.”
Jade said, “No. I heard them too.”
Ryder looked at Jade.
“When?”
“At night. Near the back stairs. Sometimes after Allison thought Mrs. Whitaker was asleep.”
“Male or female?”
Jade hesitated.
“I couldn’t always tell. Once male. Once maybe female.”
Allison’s breathing grew shallow.
Ryder saw it.
The first real crack.
Not when she was accused of cruelty.
Not when the cameras appeared.
When voices were mentioned.
He opened the security archive again.
Allison took another step toward the hallway.
Ryder did not raise his voice.
“Don’t move.”
She stopped.
The command landed not as a threat, but as a boundary.
May you like
For the first time in months, Allison was not the person deciding who could move through the house.
Read the full story 👉 Margaret and Jade both heard hidden nighttime visitors, and Allison’s reaction told Ryder the clue mattered.
