Chapter 5 - THE ECHO IN THE WALLS
Ethan dropped the journal into the water with a heavy splash. He gripped the wooden banister so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"No... no, that’s insane," he stammered, shaking his head in denial. "My father loved us! He was a doctor, an architect! He wouldn't... he couldn't have..."
"It’s written right there in your mother’s handwriting, Ethan!" Claire yelled over the mounting roar of the storm outside. "Look at it! They traded her! Or at least, they believed they did!"
"I was seven years old, Claire!" Ethan screamed back, tears finally streaming down his face, mixing with the muddy floodwater on his skin. "I was sick! I remember being in the hospital! I remember chest pain so bad I couldn't breathe! And then... one morning, I woke up, and the pain was gone. The doctor said it was a miraculous recovery. They said my heart had inexplicably healed itself!"
He covered his chest with his hand, right over his beating heart.
"They told me Rebecca fell into the river during the storm," Ethan sobbed. "I grew up believing my little sister died in a tragic accident. I lived thirty years believing I was just the lucky brother who survived!"
"Mommy," Lily’s quiet voice broke through their desperate dialogue.
Claire quickly looked down at her daughter. Lily was pointing up the stairs, back toward the master bedroom.
"What is it, sweetie?"
"The girl across the street," Lily said softly. "She’s not across the street anymore."
Claire felt every muscle in her body lock up. "What did you say?"
"She walked across," Lily said simply, her eyes wide and clear. "She didn't use a boat. She walked on top of the water. Now she’s downstairs. In the kitchen."
Ethan instantly snapped his flashlight up, shining the bright white beam down the flooded hallway leading toward the kitchen at the back of the house.
The water was black and still, reflecting the flashlight beam like a mirror.
Then, a small ripple appeared at the far end of the hallway.
Ripples.
Something—or someone—was walking through the knee-deep water on the first floor, moving slowly from the kitchen toward the main staircase where they were standing.
Splish. Splash. Splish. Splash.
"Get behind me!" Ethan bellowed, raising the crowbar in his right hand while holding the flashlight in his left. "Claire, take Lily back upstairs to the bedroom! Lock the door and don't come out!"
"I am NOT leaving you down here!" Claire yelled back. She grabbed a heavy glass vase from a side table on the landing, holding it like a club.
The rippling water grew closer. The light from Ethan's flashlight cut through the darkness, illuminating the doorway of the dining room.
A small figure stepped out into the light.
It was a girl. She looked no more than six years old. Her dress was soaked, clinging to her small frame, dripping with muddy river water. Her skin was deathly pale, and her hair hung in wet strands around her face.
In her right hand, she clutched a wet, dirty stuffed white rabbit with a single lavender ear.
She stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking up at Ethan and Claire.
Ethan lowered the crowbar, his breath hitching in his throat. The flashlight beam trembled violently in his grip.
"Rebecca?" he whispered, his voice cracking with unbearable anguish. "Is... is that really you?"
The little girl raised her head. Her eyes were not scary or demonic; they were deep, sad, and filled with profound sorrow.
She looked at Ethan, then turned her gaze to Lily.
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When she spoke, her voice didn't sound like a ghost or a monster. It sounded like a frightened, cold little child shivering in the dark.
"Ethan..." she whispered. "Why did Daddy lock me in the dark?"
