The first blow created a tiny, spiderweb crack in the smooth gray paint. Elena gasped for air, her chest heaving as plaster dust settled onto her dark hair and eyelashes. She didn't wait for her arms to stop shaking before swinging a second time.
Elena: Leo! Can you hear me? Speak to me, honey!
Leo: Elena? Is that really you?
The child's voice came through the crack, weak and trembling, sounding smaller than any eight-year-old boy should sound.
Leo: Please don't go away! It's so dark in here! I'm so scared!
Elena: I am not going anywhere, sweetie! I promise you on my life, I am getting you out right now!
Elena raised the hammer again, striking the wall with all the remaining strength in her upper body. A large chunk of drywall broke loose and crashed onto the polished marble floor. A faint beam of light cut into the dark wall cavity.
Elena: How long have you been locked in there, Leo? Tell me!
Leo: Ever since Daddy went on his business trip to London. Stepmother brought two workers in black clothes. They built a wall around my little play area while I was sleeping!
Elena: Sweet Jesus... She told your father you died in the hospital!
Leo: She gave me tiny cups of water and stale bread through a small hole behind the linen cabinet at night. She told me if I made a sound, she would lock me in the dark forever!
Elena's blood ran ice-cold as the horror of the situation sank into her mind. Three weeks ago, Evelyn Sterling had informed the whole household staff that young Leo was critically ill and had been moved to a private clinic in Houston. Days later, Evelyn had returned home in black mourning clothes, carrying a fake urn of ashes and claiming the boy had lost his battle with illness.
Elena: Why didn't anyone hear you before today?
Leo: Stepmother put sound foam on the inside of the boards. But yesterday I found a sharp screw on the floor and scraped away some of the foam near the duct!
Elena: You are so brave, Leo! So smart! Stand back, I'm breaking the main wooden beam now!
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