Chapter 11
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Lucas instinctively lifted his gaze to the wardrobe, now unbearably close, but found himself paralyzed with fear.
The rapid, pounding rhythm of his heartbeat warned him that whatever was inside the wardrobe was something he couldn’t bear
to face.
His trembling hand reached out, but courage abandoned him at the last moment. Just then, Yvonne entered the room, her heels
clicking softly on the hardwood floor. She paused, taking in the scene before her.
“Lucas, what’s wrong? I heard a noise and came to check,” she said, glancing around the room. The emptiness struck her
immediately, and her thoughts began to race.
The room was devoid of any personal belongings, and Celia was nowhere in sight. A suspicion crept into her mind. Had Celia
finally come to her senses and left on her own?
Lucas didn’t respond, his focus still fixed on the wardrobe. His silence drew Yvonne’s attention, and her gaze followed his to the
sealed door.
Without hesitation, she reached out and swung the wardrobe open.
The moment the door revealed its contents, Yvonne let out a blood–curdling scream.
“Ah!”
Her cry snapped Lucas out of his daze. But as his eyes landed on what lay inside the wardrobe, his heart seemed to stop, the blood draining from his face.
There, nestled within, was Celia’s lifeless body, her eyes closed, her frame stained with dark, dried blood.
The corpse, preserved until now, began to rapidly decay upon exposure to the air. Purple blotches of livor mortis appeared across
