Chapter 10 - The Sweet Girl
Clara grabbed the phone with trembling fingers.
The gas was filling the room fast, making her dizzy.
She dialed the only number she knew by heart—her father's best friend and lawyer, Mr. Hayes.
He answered on the second ring.
"Mr. Hayes! It's Clara! Evelyn locked us in the basement with the gas on!"
"Clara? I'm at the police station with your father right now," Hayes shouted over the line.
"Hold on, we are coming!"
Clara dropped the phone as a wave of nausea hit her.
Maria was barely waking up, groaning on the floor.
"The window," Maria choked out, pointing to a tiny, reinforced glass grate near the ceiling.
"We have to break it."
Leo grabbed an old wine bottle and threw it at the glass.
It bounced off.
"I can't reach it properly," Leo coughed, falling to his knees.
Clara looked at the window, then at her useless legs.
If she didn't stand up right now, they would all die.
She grabbed the back of the wooden chair.
Screaming through the blinding pain in her spine, Clara forced her feet flat on the stone.
She pushed.
Her knees locked.
She was standing.
She grabbed another heavy glass bottle from the rack, raised it high, and smashed it against the window grate with all her might.
The glass shattered.
Fresh, freezing air poured into the basement.
Clara collapsed just as the sound of police sirens swarmed the driveway above them.
The heavy steel door was suddenly kicked open.
Paramedics and police officers flooded into the gas-filled room, hauling them out into the fresh night air.
Clara was wrapped in a thick blanket on the lawn.
She looked up and saw Evelyn screaming and fighting as police slapped handcuffs on her wrists.
"It wasn't me! It was him!" Evelyn shrieked, pointing wildly.
But no one listened to her.
"Clara!"
Arthur came running across the lawn, looking completely unharmed.
Mr. Hayes had gotten him out.
Arthur fell to his knees and pulled Clara into a desperate, crushing hug.
"You're safe," Arthur cried into her shoulder.
"We won, my brave girl. It's all over."
Clara hugged him back, burying her face in his expensive charcoal jacket.
But as she did, she smelled something metallic.
It was the exact smell of the rusty iron gas valve from the basement.
Arthur slowly pulled back, smiling warmly at her.
Clara looked down and noticed the unmistakable dark red mud of the basement floor smeared perfectly across the tips of his expensive leather shoes.
May you like
Arthur leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear.
"You really should have stayed in the chair, my sweet girl."
