Mark walked through the heavy wooden front doors of the Dallas mansion and felt a cold chill.
The sun was high in the Texas sky, but the shadow of the grand estate seemed unusually dark.
He carried a box of old documents that his late father had left behind in the family safe.
His stepmother Margarethe had managed the estate ever since the funeral three long months ago.
She had taken over the family business and controlled every piece of property in the city.
Mark only cared about keeping his seven-year-old daughter Lily safe in this huge house.
He set the heavy box down on the polished marble counter inside the bright white kitchen.
Mark: Margarethe, have you seen where Lily went after lunch today?
Margarethe: She said she was going to play near the flower beds by the south wall.
Margarethe smiled smoothly, but her pale blue eyes stayed cold and unreadable as usual.
Mark: I told her not to wander near the back gardens without an adult around.
Margarethe: Children need space to run around, Mark, so stop worrying so much.
Mark noticed that her hands were trembling slightly as she wiped down the clean counter.
He walked toward the open patio doors that led out to the endless rolling lawn.
The air outside was thick with heat, and the quiet garden felt completely abandoned.
Mark: Lily! Come inside right now, sweetie, it is getting far too hot outside!
No answer came back across the trimmed grass, only the faint rustle of dry leaves.
He stepped out onto the lawn and looked around the vast green back yard.
In the distance, near the tall oak trees, stood the ancient stone water well.
The well had been sealed shut with iron bars for as long as Mark could remember.
He noticed that the heavy iron cover was leaning against the stone side of the well.
A sudden feeling of deep dread settled deep in the pit of his stomach.
Mark: Lily!
He picked up his pace, walking fast across the lawn toward the shade of the oaks.
As he got closer, he heard a strange metallic sound echoing from the stone rim.
It sounded like heavy iron links sliding slowly over a rusted wooden wheel axle.
Mark started to run, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs with every step.