CHAPTER 3 — THE HOUSE WHERE NO ONE LAUGHED
CHAPTER 3 — THE HOUSE WHERE NO ONE LAUGHED
The next morning, Willow almost did not go.
She stood outside the wrought-iron gates of Mercer Estate with a secondhand backpack slung over one shoulder and a knot tightening in her stomach. The mansion rose behind the walls like something carved from stone rather than built by human hands. Security cameras tracked her every movement. Armed guards watched from discreet positions beneath ancient oak trees.
This was not a home.
It was a fortress pretending to be one.
A guard approached.
"Miss Willow?"
She nodded.
He spoke into an earpiece before the gates slowly swung open.
"Mr. Mercer is expecting you."
Inside, silence ruled everything.
The marble floors reflected sunlight but carried no warmth. Expensive paintings covered the walls. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above polished furniture that looked as though no one had ever dared sit on it.
The house was immaculate.
It also felt empty.
A middle-aged housekeeper greeted her with cautious eyes.
"I'm Eleanor."
She lowered her voice.
"You should know... you're the twenty-seventh."
"The twenty-seventh what?"
"The twenty-seventh person hired for Miss Mia in the last two years."
Willow stopped walking.
"What happened to the others?"
Eleanor sighed.
"One quit after being bitten."
"Another had hot soup thrown in her face."
"A tutor needed stitches."
"A psychologist lasted forty-three minutes."
"And one man locked himself in the bathroom until security rescued him."
She hesitated.
"But none of that is the real reason they failed."
"What is?"
"They only saw her behavior."
"They never asked what was hurting."
Josiah was waiting in his study.
He looked as exhausted as he had the night before, though now he wore a tailored charcoal suit and the controlled expression of a man prepared for battle.
He poured coffee.
"I appreciate you coming."
"I haven't agreed to anything."
"I know."
He slid a thick envelope across the desk.
Willow didn't touch it.
"What is it?"
"Your first month's salary."
She frowned.
"I haven't even started."
"I don't want money to be the reason you leave."
She pushed the envelope back.
"If I stay, it won't be because of this."
For the first time, something almost resembling respect flickered across Josiah's face.
"You're unusual."
"So I've been told."
A scream echoed upstairs.
Glass shattered.
Another scream.
Eleanor closed her eyes.
"She's awake."
Willow climbed the staircase alone.
Every servant remained downstairs.
No one volunteered to follow.
Mia's bedroom looked like a tornado had passed through.
Books covered the floor.
Stuffed animals lay ripped open.
A dollhouse had been smashed into pieces.
Mia stood in the center of the destruction with folded arms.
"I knew you'd come."
"You did?"
"I wanted to see if you were lying."
Willow looked around.
"You made quite a mess."
"So?"
"So..."
Willow stepped over a broken toy.
"...we should probably clean it."
Mia stared.
"That's all you're going to say?"
"What else should I say?"
"You should yell."
"I'm not angry."
"I broke everything."
"They're just things."
Mia frowned harder.
"I broke Daddy's favorite picture yesterday."
"Why?"
The girl's chin lifted defiantly.
"Because I wanted to."
Willow quietly picked up a broken picture frame from the floor.
Inside was a photograph of Mia, younger, sitting on a woman's lap.
Her mother.
The glass was shattered across the woman's smiling face.
Willow looked back at Mia.
"I don't think you wanted to break the picture."
"I did."
"I think you wanted someone to notice how much you miss her."
The room became painfully quiet.
Mia grabbed another toy.
"Stop saying that!"
She threw it.
Willow didn't move.
The stuffed rabbit bounced harmlessly off her shoulder.
"I know."
"No, you don't!"
"I cried every day after my mom died."
Mia froze.
"You... did?"
"For a long time."
"No one told me grown-ups cried."
"They do."
"Even fathers?"
Willow looked toward the hallway.
"I think some fathers forget how."
That afternoon, Willow found something strange.
There were cameras everywhere.
Hallways.
Doors.
The garden.
Even outside Mia's bedroom.
Everywhere except...
the playroom.
She asked Eleanor.
"Why isn't there a camera in there?"
The older woman's expression changed.
"Mr. Mercer had them removed."
"Why?"
Eleanor hesitated.
"Because after Mrs. Mercer died..."
"...Mia spent three days talking to someone inside that room."
Willow felt chills crawl across her skin.
"Talking to who?"
"No one could ever figure that out."
Curiosity pulled Willow toward the playroom.
Dust floated through beams of afternoon sunlight.
Most of the toys had been abandoned.
In one corner stood a tiny tea table.
Two chairs.
One large.
One small.
The porcelain tea set remained perfectly arranged.
As if someone had just left.
Willow noticed something else.
Tiny handwritten notes hidden beneath the table.
She unfolded the first one.
Mommy says Daddy isn't bad. He's just sad.
Another.
Don't tell anyone our secret place.
A third.
If Daddy finds the blue key before they do, we'll be safe.
Willow's heartbeat accelerated.
Blue key?
What blue key?
Behind her...
the floor creaked.
She turned.
Josiah stood in the doorway.
His face had gone completely pale.
"Where..."
May you like
His voice barely emerged.
"...did you find those?"
