The storm was unrelenting, a cacophony of thunder and wind that seemed to rattle the very bones of the mansion. Inside the master bedroom, the tension was thick, pressing down on the group as they huddled together, trapped in their own anxious thoughts.
Dean leaned against the wall, staring out at the rain lashing against the window. “This night is taking forever,” he muttered, taking another sip of the whiskey he’d poured earlier.
Sophia shifted uncomfortably on the bed, casting a wary glance at the small adjoining bathroom. “I can’t hold it anymore,” she said, breaking the uneasy silence.
Dean smirked, the glint in his eye faintly amused. “Good luck with that. I used it earlier—it’s not flushing, and it smells like something died in there.”
Sophia groaned, throwing her head back. “Are you serious?”
Dean gave her a lazy shrug. “Just saying. You might want to use another bathroom.”
Sophia wrinkled her nose, muttering under her breath.
“Fantastic. Because this night couldn’t get any worse.” She stood, brushing off her pants. “I’m not going out there alone.”
“I’ll come with you,” Marcus offered, his voice calm and steady as he rose from his chair.
Sophia paused, surprised, before nodding. “Fine. Let’s just make it quick.”
Helen, lying stiffly on the bed with her arms crossed over her chest, opened one eye to glance at them. “Be quick. And don’t wander off.”
“We won’t,” Marcus said simply, grabbing the flashlight from the table. He motioned for Sophia to follow him, and the two stepped out into the dim hallway.
The door clicked shut behind them, and the room sank back into its tense, oppressive quiet. Vanessa lay sprawled across the chaise, her soft snores the only break in the silence. Helen stared at the ceiling, her fingers tapping against her arms in restless thought.
Dean shifted his gaze from the window to Ivy, who was perched nervously on the edge of a chair, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She caught his look and hesitated before moving to sit beside him.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked softly.
Dean shook his head, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Not with all this going on.” He gestured vaguely toward the storm outside.
Ivy pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “Do you think we’ll get out of this?”
Dean turned to her, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I don’t know. But this… all of this… it doesn’t feel random.”
Ivy’s brow furrowed, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Do you think it’s one of us?”
Dean’s jaw tightened. He hesitated before answering, his tone sharp. “You tell me. You were the last person I saw with Eleanor.”
Ivy’s eyes widened, her voice shaking as she replied, “What are you talking about?”
“You were with her that night,” Dean pressed. “At the party. I saw you.”
Ivy shifted uncomfortably, her hands clenching into fists. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she said defensively.
“Doesn’t it?” Dean’s voice was low, cutting. “You were her friend, weren’t you? Or was that just for show?”
“Stop it,” Ivy hissed, her voice cracking.
Their heated exchange woke Vanessa, who bolted upright, her eyes darting between them. “What’s going on?” she demanded, her voice sharp with alarm.
Dean leaned back in his chair, his expression hard. “Nothing. Just talking.”
Vanessa frowned, rubbing her eyes. “Didn’t sound like talking. Sounded like you were about to kill each other.”
“Enough,” Helen snapped, sitting up abruptly. Her stern gaze swept over all three of them.
“This isn’t helping. We’re supposed to stick together, not turn on each other.”
Before anyone could respond, the lights flickered once, twice… and then went out completely.
The room plunged into darkness, and the storm outside seemed to grow louder, the wind howling like a banshee. Helen grabbed for her flashlight, clicking it on and sweeping the beam around the room.
“All right, no one panic,” she said firmly. Her sharp gaze landed on Ivy, Dean, and Vanessa in turn.
Vanessa rubbed her arms, shivering slightly. “What now? Do we just sit here in the dark?”
Helen ignored her, her voice cutting through the room. “Everyone’s accounted for, right?”
Vanessa frowned, sitting up straighter. “Wait. Where are Marcus and Sophia?”
“They went to use another bathroom,” Dean said, his tone clipped. “They said they’d be back.”
Helen’s lips pressed into a thin line, the weight of her thoughts clear. “That was a while ago.”
Ivy, clutching her blanket, glanced nervously toward the door. “You don’t think something happened, do you?”