Chapter 9 - The Voice from the Wall
""Good evening, Eleanor. Girls. It seems you finally found your way to the truth."" The voice was smooth, raspy, and thoroughly alive, broadcasting with terrifying clarity through the digital intercom. Vivienne rose slowly to her feet, shielding Camille with her body. She stared at the electronic console, unable to reconcile the voice with the closed-casket funeral she had attended weeks ago.
Eleanor stepped forward, her hand tightening around the revolver until her knuckles gleamed white. She demanded to know how Arthur had survived the crash, her tone venomous. Arthur’s low laugh echoed through the damp masonry. He explained that a man who controls regional transport systems has no difficulty replacing his body with an unidentified drifter. He had staged his own demise to flush out the traitors in his own house, knowing that greed would drive Julian, Thomas, and Eleanor into the open like wolves over fresh carrion.
Arthur informed them that the entire estate had been rigged with industrial incendiaries hours before dinner began. He had watched them through the security cameras, observing every poisoned drop and calculated betrayal. ""Only the worthy will leave this house alive,"" Arthur announced coldly. Then, a pneumatic hiss escaped the vault door as it slowly unlocked, revealing a dark, cavernous chamber filled with flickering computer terminals—and the silhouette of a man holding a detonator.
