Chapter 5 - THE DEADLY GREENHOUSE
“Marco, get the keys!” Luca roared, his voice tearing through the drawing room. He didn't wait to see if his remaining loyal guards followed the order. Luca sprinted past me, his long strides eating up the distance down the grand hallway. The heavy front doors had been left ajar, and the freezing Chicago wind howled into the mansion. I looked back at Leo. The little boy had dropped his mug of hot chocolate, his emerald eyes wide with terror as the screaming erupted. “Emily!” Natalie cried, grabbing my arm. “We have to help her!” “Stay here with him!” I ordered, surprising myself with the authority in my voice. “Lock the drawing room doors. Do not let Vanessa or Marco out of your sight. I’m going with Luca.” I didn't wait for Natalie’s response. I hiked up my dark cotton skirt and ran. The cold air hit me like a physical blow the second I stepped off the front porch. The sprawling Moretti estate was swallowed by absolute darkness, illuminated only by the faint silver glow of the moon breaking through the heavy winter clouds. I could see Luca sprinting across the frozen lawn, a dark silhouette against the snow, heading toward the desolate eastern edge of the property. “Mr. Moretti! Wait!” I yelled, my lungs burning in the freezing air. He didn't slow down. I pushed my legs harder, my sensible black work shoes slipping on the icy patches of grass. The old greenhouse loomed ahead. It was a massive Victorian-style structure of wrought iron and thick, frosted glass panes. It had been abandoned for decades, completely overgrown with dead ivy that choked the metal framework like skeletal fingers. As we approached, the sharp, overwhelming stench of natural gas hit me like a wall. It was thick and suffocating. Luca reached the heavy iron doors and grabbed the handle. He pulled with all his massive strength, the muscles in his back straining against his suit jacket. The door didn't budge. A heavy, modern electronic deadbolt had been installed on the vintage doors. A small red LED light blinked mockingly in the dark. “Caroline!” Luca screamed, pounding his fists against the thick, frosted glass. “Caroline, are you in there?!” There was no answer. Only the faint, sinister hiss of gas leaking from inside. “It’s sealed tight!” Luca yelled in panic, looking around desperately. “The glass is reinforced! I need a tool. A rock, a pipe, something!” I frantically scanned the frozen ground around the greenhouse. The snow was too deep; everything was buried. Then I remembered something. Three months ago, while weeding the garden paths nearby, I had noticed an old, rusted maintenance hatch near the foundation of the greenhouse. It was meant for accessing the irrigation pipes beneath the floorboards. “Mr. Moretti! Over here!” I shouted, running to the side of the structure. I dropped to my knees in the snow and began digging frantically with my bare hands. The ice tore at my skin, leaving my fingertips bloody, but I didn't stop. Within seconds, my hands struck cold, rusted metal. Luca dropped beside me, his large hands easily clearing the rest of the snow and dirt. It was a heavy iron grate, bolted to the concrete foundation. “It goes underneath the floorboards!” I yelled over the wind. “You might be able to break through the wood from below!” Luca didn't hesitate. He grabbed the rusted iron bars of the grate. Veins popped in his neck as he let out a primal roar, pulling with a strength born of pure, desperate love. With a sickening screech of tearing metal, the rusted bolts snapped. Luca ripped the grate free and tossed it aside. A narrow, dark tunnel lay beneath the foundation, smelling of damp earth and intense gas. “I’m going in,” Luca said, his eyes burning with determination. “Sir, the gas!” I warned, grabbing his sleeve. “You’ll pass out before you reach her!” Luca looked at me, a profound, heartbreaking sadness passing over his features. “Emily. If I don't come out... take care of my son. Promise me.” “I promise,” I choked out, tears freezing on my cheeks. Luca took a massive, deep breath of clean air, held it, and dove headfirst into the narrow, dark tunnel. I knelt by the opening, peering into the blackness, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm. I counted the seconds. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. The hiss of the gas seemed to grow louder. Forty. Fifty. Suddenly, a deafening crack echoed from inside the greenhouse. Wood splintering. CRASH. A heavy thud shook the foundation. Through the frosted glass above me, I saw a dark shadow emerge from the floorboards inside. It was Luca. “Caroline!” his muffled voice shouted from within the structure. I scrambled up from the snow and ran to the front doors, peering through a small, clear patch of glass. Inside, the greenhouse was a nightmare of dead plants and rusted tables. In the center of the room, slumped against a heavy iron planter, was a woman. She wore a thin, white hospital gown, shivering uncontrollably. Her blonde hair was chopped short and uneven, exactly as Natalie had described. Luca fell to his knees beside her. He scooped her fragile body into his arms, pressing his face to hers. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I saw the desperate, frantic way he shook her shoulders. She wasn't moving. Luca looked around wildly. He grabbed a heavy metal gardening spade from a nearby table. Using the spade like a battering ram, he swung it with all his might against the electronic deadbolt on the double doors. Clang. Clang. Clang. Sparks flew as the metal housing of the lock shattered. Luca kicked the doors open. A massive cloud of toxic gas poured out into the winter air. He stumbled out, carrying Caroline tightly against his chest, coughing violently as his lungs desperately sought oxygen. He collapsed onto the snow, laying Caroline gently on the freezing ground. “Caroline, please,” Luca wept, stroking her pale face. “Breathe. Please, baby, breathe.” I fell to my knees beside her. Her lips were a frightening shade of blue. She was completely unresponsive. “She needs air!” I shouted, ripping my apron off and rolling it into a pillow, placing it under her neck to open her airway. I pressed my ear to her chest. Her heartbeat was faint, erratic. “Come on,” Luca pleaded, his tears falling onto her cheeks. Suddenly, Caroline drew in a sharp, ragged gasp of air. Her chest heaved violently as she coughed, her body convulsing on the snow. Luca pulled her into his arms, rocking her back and forth, weeping openly. “You’re safe,” Luca whispered into her hair. “I have you. I’m never letting you go again.” Caroline slowly opened her eyes. They were a dull, cloudy blue, filled with absolute terror. She looked at Luca’s face. She didn't smile. She didn't cry. Instead, a look of pure, unadulterated horror washed over her features. She began to thrash violently in his arms, screaming at the top of her lungs. “No! Get away from me! Don't touch me!” she shrieked, clawing at Luca’s face in blind panic. Luca pulled back, stunned and heartbroken. “Caroline, it’s me. It’s Luca.” “I don't know you!” she screamed, scrambling backward in the snow until her back hit the iron gate of the greenhouse. “Where is my baby?! What did you do to my baby?!” The amnesia. Vanessa wasn't lying. Caroline had no idea who her husband was. To her, Luca was just another terrifying man in the dark. I stepped forward slowly, raising my hands to show I was unarmed. I unbuttoned my warm, heavy wool cardigan and gently draped it over her shivering, frail shoulders. “Caroline,” I said softly, using the same gentle tone I had used with Leo. “My name is Emily. Your baby is safe. He is inside the house, drinking hot chocolate. He sent us to find you.” Caroline stopped screaming. She looked at me, her blue eyes darting frantically. “Leo?” “Yes,” I smiled, tears blurring my vision. “Leo. He is very brave. Would you like me to take you to him?” Caroline hesitated, staring at me. Then, her eyes shifted to the dark silhouette of the mansion in the distance. But as she looked toward the house, her expression changed again. The confusion vanished, replaced by a sudden, jarring clarity that sent a chill down my spine. She pointed a trembling, frostbitten finger toward the front porch of the mansion, where two figures had just stepped out into the light. Natalie and Leo. “Don't let her near him!” Caroline screamed, her voice cracking with sheer hysteria. Luca frowned, looking back at the house. “Caroline, it’s okay. That’s your sister, Natalie.” Caroline shook her head violently, her eyes wide with absolute dread. “No, it’s not!” Caroline shrieked, pointing directly at the blonde woman holding her son’s hand. “My sister died ten years ago! I don't know who that woman is, but she is the one who took me from the boat!”
