Chapter 9: The Steel Plates
The next morning, the sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows felt heavy and cold, doing nothing to thaw the freezing tension in the room. By seven o'clock, a heavy-duty contractor van was parked in the circular driveway, its side panels emblazoned with a local commercial welding company logo. Two men in thick denim work shirts and heavy tool belts walked through the front doors carrying acetylene torches, heavy steel reinforcement plates, and an assortment of electric drills. Richard stood by the kitchen island, his face expressionless, directing them with sharp, clipped hand gestures toward the baseboards and the primary hallway vents.
"I want every ground-floor intake grill covered with three-eighths-inch cold-rolled steel," Richard instructed the head contractor, his voice unnaturally calm, though a fine sheen of sweat coated his forehead. "Weld them directly into the studs. No gaps, no access points. Fast." Clara sat at the dining table, staring blankly at an untasted cup of coffee, her shoulders hunched as if she were carrying the weight of the entire roof on her back. She didn't look up when the first shriek of an electric grinder bit into the drywall near the pantry, sending a fine white plume of plaster dust floating into the pristine morning air.
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I couldn't just stand there and watch them bury her alive. As the contractor hoisted a heavy steel plate toward the very vent where I had handed Lily the piece of bread just days ago, I stepped directly into their path. "Stop it! You can't do this!" I shouted, my voice cracking with a mixture of terror and desperate rage. The head contractor halted, lowering his drill with a confused frown, looking over his shoulder at Richard. Richard's face darkened instantly into a mask of pure fury. He crossed the kitchen in three long strides, grabbing my arm with a grip so tight I felt my skin pinch against the bone.
"Ethan, go to your room right now," Richard hissed, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying register that made the contractors look away in awkward silence. "You are interfering with matters you are far too young to understand." I twisted my arm free, my eyes burning with hot tears as I glared up at him, stripping away the last illusion of the loving father he pretended to be. "You're locking her away because you're a coward!" I yelled, my voice echoing off the high kitchen ceiling, carrying straight down the open hallway toward the foyer where two household staff members had stopped, staring in open-mouthed shock. Richard's face drained of color as he realized the truth was no longer contained. The public mask had cracked wide open in front of his own employees.
