Chapter 5 - No Way Out
Emma was dragged down the back stairs and shoved into a small holding room near the garage. Marcus locked the door from the outside.
"The police will be here in twenty minutes, Emma," Marcus’s cold voice came through the door. "I'd suggest you keep your mouth shut about the basement. If you play nice, maybe Mrs. Sterling won't press full charges. If you don't... well, accidents happen to people in custody all the time."
Emma slumped against the door, tears of frustration streaming down her face. She had failed. She had tried to do the right thing, but she had been too impatient, too reckless. Now she was going to jail, and Ethan was left completely defenseless against a woman who intended to destroy him.
She looked around the holding room. It was used for storing excess outdoor gear and security equipment. There were no windows, and the door was solid oak.
She sat on a bench, her head in her hands, trying to think. Think, Emma, think.
She remembered her phone. She reached into her pocket. It was gone. Marcus must have slipped it out of her pocket when he dragged her down. She was completely cut off from the outside world.
But as she looked around the room, her eyes caught on a small, red box mounted high on the wall near the ceiling.
A fire alarm manual pull station.
And right next to it, a ceiling-mounted water sprinkler.
If she pulled the alarm, the local fire department would be dispatched automatically. When they arrived, they would force entry into the entire estate to locate the source of the fire. The commotion would draw attention, and perhaps, in the chaos, she could find a way to get to the basement or alert the firefighters.
It was a massive risk, but it was the only card she had left to play.
Emma grabbed a heavy metal flashlight from a shelf. She stood on the bench, stretching her arms high. She couldn't reach the sprinkler head directly, so she threw the heavy flashlight at it.
The first throw missed, clattering loudly against the floor.
"Hey! What's going on in there?" Marcus’s voice boomed from the hallway.
Emma scrambled to pick up the flashlight. She had only one more shot. She aimed, threw, and—shatter.
The fragile glass bulb inside the sprinkler head broke. Instantly, a torrential downpour of pressurized, stagnant water erupted from the ceiling, soaking Emma in seconds. Simultaneously, the mansion’s fire sirens began to wail, a deafening, pulsing shriek that echoed through the walls.
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Outside the door, Emma heard Marcus swearing loudly. The lock clicked, and the door swung open. Marcus stood there, drenched, his face contorted in rage. "You stupid little—"
Before he could finish, Emma lunged forward, slamming the heavy flashlight into the side of his head. Marcus groaned, stumbling backward. Emma didn't wait to see if he would get up; she bolted past him into the smoky, rain-slicked darkness of the garage.
