Page 17 of The House That Held Her

I blink. Once. Twice.

No. No.

“They were here,” I whisper. My voice cracks on the last word. “They were right here.”

I rush forward, dropping to my knees. The inside of the chest is the same—old wood, a dark stain in the corner—but the skulls are gone.

Chief Miller crouches beside me, his pen tapping against his notepad. “Mrs. Bennett… are you sure you?—”

“I’m not crazy!” I shout, heat flooding my face.

Miller’s face is hard to read, somewhere between concern and skepticism. “I don’t think you’re crazy, ma’am. But right now… there's nothing here.”

His voice trails off, heavy with implication.

Desperation claws at my chest as I turn to Walter, needing—aching—for someone to believe me. But his eyes falter, flicking away from mine, his jaw tightening with something raw and brutal. Embarrassment. Not for me—by me. The realization hits like a slap, sharp and cold.

“Walter—” I try, but my voice breaks before the rest can form. Nothing comes out. I stand there, mute, my throat locked with panic, unsure how to make them see.

I lunge toward the chest, my hands scrambling inside, pushing past splinters and dust until my fingers find it—the dark, sticky smear against the wood.

“See!” I cry, turning to face them. “There’s blood! You need to test it for DNA. It’ll match someone from Mount Dora—I know it!”

Chief Miller steps forward, peering into the chest. His expression is unreadable as he studies the stain. “If that is blood, it would have to match someone’s DNA we already have on file—which would mean a known criminal.”

The words drop heavy between us, thick with finality. My hope fractures.

I turn away, my arms wrapping around myself as Chief Miller does a final glance around the room.

His movements are slow, methodical. He checks under the bed. Peeks inside the closet. But then, just as I rub my forehead, willing away the pulsing headache forming behind my eyes, I catch it—his hand brushing over the nightstand, fingers subtly lifting the lid of the drawer. My stomach twists as I realize what he’s doing.

“Are you looking for something?” My voice is sharper than I intend, the accusation laced within it unmistakable.

Chief Miller barely hesitates, but I don’t miss the fleeting moment of surprise that crosses his face before he schools his features back into something neutral. He turns toward me, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Just making sure there’s nothing that could explain what you saw,” he says evenly.

My skin prickles, anger clawing its way up my throat. “You mean like medication?”

The room is quiet. Too quiet. The two other officers shift awkwardly near the door, avoiding eye contact, their postures suddenly tense. Chief Miller exhales through his nose and nods.

“I have to consider every possibility, Mrs. Bennett.”

I let out a sharp laugh, humorless and bitter. “So, let me get this straight. I tell you I found a chest full of skulls, and instead of considering that someone might have taken them, you think I hallucinated the entire thing?”

His silence is answer enough.

My chest tightens. This is a dead end, I realize. Even if I scream until my voice breaks, it won’t matter. They don’t believe me. And worse, they’ve already made up their minds.

Walter looks at me, something soft and sad in his eyes. “I believe you, I do” he says quietly. But we both know it's a lie.

The words cut deeper than I expect. I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I want to scream. Instead, I stand, my hands curled into fists again. He turns toward the door, signaling the men to leave.

Then I’m alone.

The room feels cavernous, hollow. I stare at the empty chest. Doubt slithers in, cold and sharp.

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