Chapter 8 · The Contract Underwater

"Don't go down there."

Daniel's voice came from behind me, rough and sharp, but I was already on the third step. The mirror hadn't just split open—it had peeled back like skin, revealing a staircase that dropped straight into black water. The smell hit me first: iron and rot and something older, like the inside of a well that hadn't seen daylight in decades.

"My mom's down there," I said.

"Your mom's been dead for ten years."

"Then what the hell did I just see?"

He grabbed my wrist, yanked me back hard enough that I stumbled into him. His chest was solid, his breath coming fast against my temple. "What you saw is what the house wants you to see. It's bait, Leah. You go down there, you don't come back up."

I twisted out of his grip, turned to face him. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark and ringed with something that looked like fear. Real fear. Not the controlled, locked-down version he'd been showing me since I moved in.

"You've been down there," I said.

He didn't answer.

"Daniel. Have you been down there?"

"Once." His voice dropped. "I came back. Barely."

"What's at the bottom?"