Chapter 6 - The Flames of Truth
The sirens roared, red emergency lights flashing throughout the Sterling mansion. Panic had erupted. Emma could hear the shouts of the remaining staff evacuating the building.
Instead of running outside, Emma ran back toward the main house. She had to get to Ethan before Isabella used the chaos to relocate him—or worse, eliminate him.
She slipped through the kitchen, which was now empty, and made her way to the staff corridor. The flashing red lights cast eerie, pulsing shadows on the brick walls.
She reached the baroque painting. To her horror, it was already slid open.
Emma crept inside the dark passage, descending the concrete stairs as fast as she could in the dark. The smell of smoke was beginning to drift down from the upper floors—the fire system had triggered, but a real fire seemed to have started in the main kitchen fuse box due to the water deluge.
At the bottom of the stairs, Emma saw the steel door was wide open.
Inside the cell, Isabella was packing a duffel bag with documents and vials of medicine. Ethan was lying unconscious on the mattress, his face pale.
"Stop!" Emma screamed, lunging into the room.
Isabella spun around, her eyes wild with fury. In her hand, she held a heavy, brass fireplace poker she had brought down for defense. "You! You ruined everything! This house was supposed to be mine! The Sterling empire was supposed to be mine!"
"It will never be yours, Isabella!" Emma yelled, dodging as Isabella swung the heavy metal poker at her head.
The poker smashed into the drywall, leaving a gaping hole. Emma grabbed Isabella’s arm, trying to twist the weapon away. The two women grappled, sliding on the damp concrete floor. Isabella was surprisingly strong, fueled by manic desperation. She shoved Emma hard, sending her crashing into the metal bed frame.
Emma gasped, the wind knocked out of her. Isabella raised the poker for a final, lethal blow.
"Isabella! Stop!"
William Sterling stood at the entrance of the cell. He was soaked from the sprinklers, his face pale with horror as his eyes took in the scene: the tiny cell, the unconscious boy on the floor, and his wife holding a weapon.
"William!" Isabella gasped, her voice instantly dropping into a terrified whine. "She... she came down here to kill Ethan! I came to save him! She set the fire!"
"Save him?" William’s voice was dead, cold, and hollow. He walked slowly into the cell, his eyes fixed on the unconscious boy. He knelt beside Ethan, lifting his son into his arms. "I called my sister, Isabella. I called her from a different phone. She had no idea what I was talking about. She hasn't seen Ethan in weeks."
Isabella froze, the poker slipping slightly from her hand. "William... I can explain..."
"You lied to me," William whispered, tears of rage and grief filling his eyes. "My son... you locked my son in a basement."
"He was in the way!" Isabella suddenly screamed, her fake persona completely shattering. "He looks just like his mother! Every time you looked at him, you saw her! You would have never given me the full estate while he was alive! You are weak, William! Just like your pathetic late wife!"
Isabella lunged at William with the poker.
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But Emma, recovering her strength, tackled Isabella from behind. The two women crashed to the floor. The poker fell, clattering away. Before Isabella could scramble to her feet, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs.
Two firemen, accompanied by several police officers, burst into the basement cell.
