My Husband Said Floor 4 Didn't Exist While Draining My $145,000 Savings—Until His Ex Revealed The 1912 Pact Sealed Above Our Bedroom
👉 Previous decision: You chose to retreat and speak with Agnes O’Malley in unit 5A.
I sealed the plaster panel back into place, the iron door now a chilling secret once more. My hands still trembled from the cold, but my mind was clear. I needed answers, not confrontation.
I took the elevator up to floor 5, the brass dial clicking directly from 3 to 5 as always. I knocked on the door of unit 5A.
The door opened slowly, revealing Agnes O’Malley, her small frame wrapped in a floral cardigan. Her 84-year-old eyes, sharp and clear, looked me over.
“Maya, dear. Come in, come in. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She chuckled, unaware of how close she was to the truth.
She welcomed me inside her cozy apartment, the air warm with the scent of brewed tea. Porcelain teacups clinked as she poured.
“Tell me about Floor 4,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
Agnes paused, her hand hovering over the sugar bowl. Her gaze hardened. “Floor 4 was walled off by the city in October 1912, after a tragedy.”
She leaned forward, her voice dropping. “The original owner, Arthur Lindqvist – Julian’s great-grandfather – lost his son, Thomas, during a midnight ritual in the central study on that floor. Never found the body, just… vanished.”
She pointed a frail finger to the ceiling above us. “Every Lindqvist landlord since has paid a heavy price to keep the building’s foundation from collapsing. Or so they say.”
A cold dread seeped into my bones. Julian hadn’t just bought a building; he had inherited a generational curse, one that apparently required my company’s funds to appease.
“What kind of price?” I asked, my teacup rattling in my hand.
Agnes shook her head slowly. “Whispers of financial tribute. A secret bargain. Anything to keep the old house from falling down around their ears.”
➡️ Read CHAPTER 6 to continue the story.
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