Chapter 4 – Ethan's Secret Diary
Chapter 4 – Ethan's Secret Diary
Three slow knocks.
A pause.
Then three more.
Emma's heart lurched.
It was the same pattern Ethan had tapped from behind the steel door beneath Sterling Manor.
She slipped the rusted key into the lining of her suitcase and quietly reached for the small canister of pepper spray she kept beside her bed. Living alone in New York had taught her to prepare for the unexpected. Tonight, however, nothing could have prepared her for what waited outside.
The knocking came again.
Three.
Pause.
Three.
"Who is it?" Emma whispered.
For several seconds, there was no answer.
Then a frail voice spoke through the wooden door.
"It's Samuel."
Emma exhaled in relief, though only slightly. She unlocked the door just enough to peer through the narrow opening.
Samuel Brooks stood in the dimly lit hallway, his gray coat soaked by the night's rain. He looked over both shoulders before stepping inside.
The moment Emma closed the door, Samuel reached into his coat and produced a small leather-bound notebook.
Its cover was cracked with age.
A faded blue ribbon still marked one of the pages.
"Ethan's diary," Samuel said quietly.
Emma stared.
"Where did you get it?"
"I've been hiding it."
"For how long?"
"Since the night he disappeared."
Emma accepted the notebook with trembling hands.
The words Ethan Sterling were embossed in gold across the front, though several letters had worn away. A cartoon rocket ship was drawn in one corner with silver marker—something only a child would do.
She opened the first page.
March 3
Emma made pancakes today.
She let me put chocolate chips in mine even though Dad said breakfast should be healthy.
She said one day doesn't matter.
I think she's right.
Emma smiled despite everything.
She remembered that morning.
William had laughed when he found chocolate syrup all over Ethan's face.
Back then, the mansion had felt like a home.
Before Isabella.
She turned another page.
The cheerful entries continued.
School.
Baseball practice.
Movies with his father.
Jokes about the family dog.
Normal.
Happy.
Then everything changed.
May 14
Dad met someone.
Her name is Isabella.
Everybody says she's nice.
She smiles a lot.
But she never smiles when she thinks nobody is looking.
Emma frowned.
Even then...
He had noticed.
Another entry.
June 2
I woke up last night because someone was walking in the hallway.
I thought it was Emma.
It wasn't.
It was Isabella.
She was talking to somebody downstairs.
She told them, "Not yet."
I don't know what that means.
Emma exchanged a worried glance with Samuel.
"How old was he when he wrote this?"
"Eight."
"He noticed far more than anyone realized."
Samuel nodded.
"Children usually do."
The entries became darker.
July 9
I asked Isabella why she goes into the basement every night.
She stopped smiling.
She told me never to ask again.
July 22
Dad doesn't believe me.
He says Isabella is helping him because Mom died.
Maybe I'm imagining things.
But I don't think I am.
Emma's chest tightened.
William hadn't ignored Ethan out of cruelty.
He had believed his grieving son was struggling to accept a new stepmother.
Exactly what Isabella wanted him to believe.
The next several pages had been ripped out.
Cleanly.
Deliberately.
Emma looked up.
"They're missing."
Samuel's expression darkened.
"They weren't when I hid it."
"Someone removed them."
Samuel nodded.
"Recently."
Emma flipped farther ahead.
The handwriting had changed.
It was shakier.
Uneven.
As though Ethan had been writing in fear.
September 4
There's another room downstairs.
I wasn't supposed to see it.
Somebody was crying.
Not me.
A little girl.
Emma looked at Samuel.
"You told me Ethan wasn't the first."
Samuel remained silent.
Another page.
September 8
The girl is gone.
Isabella said she went home.
But I saw Marcus carrying a shovel.
Emma's hands began to shake.
She forced herself to continue reading.
September 12
Emma almost found the hallway today.
Isabella got really angry after Emma left.
She broke a glass.
She never breaks things in front of Dad.
Samuel sighed quietly.
"She wears different faces."
Emma looked up.
"What do you mean?"
"The world knows Isabella Sterling."
He paused.
"The basement knows someone else."
The diary ended abruptly with one final entry.
The ink was smeared, as though written in haste.
October 1
If Emma finds this...
Don't trust the walls.
They move.
She hides things inside them.
Not just rooms.
People.
Emma slowly closed the diary.
The room felt colder than before.
"What does that mean?"
Samuel walked toward the window and looked into the rain.
"You're asking the wrong question."
Emma frowned.
"Then what's the right one?"
Samuel turned back.
"Who?"
Before Emma could respond, voices echoed outside in the servants' hallway.
Two security guards.
"...Marcus wants another search."
"...The housekeeper?"
"...Every room."
Samuel's face tightened.
"They're already looking."
Emma quickly hid the diary beneath the loose floorboard under her bed.
Samuel slipped behind the wardrobe just as a loud knock rattled the door.
"Security."
Emma steadied her breathing.
She opened the door.
Marcus Hale stood outside with two guards.
His smile was as polite as ever.
"Sorry to disturb you."
"What do you need?"
"Routine inspection."
"At midnight?"
Marcus shrugged.
"Mrs. Sterling values everyone's safety."
Without waiting for permission, the guards entered.
Emma's stomach twisted.
They searched the wardrobe.
The drawers.
Her suitcase.
Even the mattress.
Samuel remained hidden behind the wardrobe, pressed into a narrow gap between the wall and the heavy wooden frame. Emma prayed they wouldn't move it.
One guard glanced toward the floor.
"What's this?"
Emma looked down.
A tiny scrap of yellowed paper lay beside the bed.
The note that had been wrapped around Samuel's key.
She had overlooked it.
The guard bent to pick it up.
Marcus took it from him.
His eyes scanned the faded words.
Never trust the man who built the walls.
For the first time, the smile disappeared from Marcus's face.
He folded the note carefully.
"Interesting."
Emma forced herself to remain calm.
"I've never seen that before."
Marcus studied her for several long seconds.
Then he handed the paper back.
"You should be careful."
"About what?"
"There are many old stories in this house."
He stepped toward the door.
"Most of them are dangerous."
The guards followed him out.
Marcus paused before leaving.
"Oh..."
He looked directly into Emma's eyes.
"If Ethan contacts you..."
His smile returned.
"...tell Mrs. Sterling immediately."
The door closed.
Silence settled over the room once more.
Samuel emerged slowly from his hiding place.
"He knows."
Emma nodded.
"He suspects."
"No."
Samuel's voice was grim.
"He knows."
Emma sat heavily on the edge of her bed, Ethan's diary resting in her lap.
She opened it one last time, searching the inside cover more carefully.
Something felt different.
The leather was thicker than it should have been.
She gently pressed along the spine.
A tiny compartment sprang open.
Inside was a folded photograph.
Emma unfolded it.
Her breath caught.
The picture showed Ethan standing beside another child—a little girl of about seven with dark curls and bright eyes.
Behind them stood a woman.
Not Isabella.
Not Catherine.
A woman Emma had never seen before.
But what froze her blood was the date printed in the corner of the photograph.
April 18... only three months ago.
According to the official records, that little girl had died nine years earlier.
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And someone had written a single sentence across the back of the photo in red ink:
"She's still alive. Find Basement Seven."
