Isolation

The threat hung in the damp air, heavier than the humidity. Iris forced her spine straight, refusing to shrink away from the man who had poisoned her grandfather and imprisoned her cousin.

"Is that a threat, Julian?"

He smiled, a slow, pitying expression that made her skin crawl. "It's financial advice. You look exhausted. Stress does terrible things to the mind. Look at Cordelia."

He turned and began to ascend the stairs, his footsteps echoing on the wood. "I'll be staying in the guest cottage for a few days. Just to oversee the repairs. We can't have any more... accidents."

Iris followed him up, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm. "The guest cottage?"

"Yes. It's quieter there. Less... damp." He reached the kitchen and turned to her. "Oh, and Iris? I've changed the locks on the main gates. For your safety. You're free to roam the grounds, of course. But if you need to leave, just let me know. I'll open them for you."

He walked out the back door, whistling softly.

Iris ran to the window. She watched him walk down the path toward the carriage house. He stopped at his car, retrieving a bag. Then he disappeared into the trees.

She was trapped.

She checked the front door. Locked. She tried the key. It turned, but the deadbolt didn't disengage. He had changed the cylinders electronically. Smart locks. He controlled them from his phone.

She checked the back door. Same.

She was a prisoner in the very house she was supposed to be selling.

Iris sank onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. She was alone. Marcus was gone. Elias was gone. She had no car, no money, and no exit.

But she had her phone.

She crawled under the kitchen table, hiding in the shadows as if Julian could see her through the walls. She pulled up the video file Marcus had transferred to her before he left. The footage from the snake camera.

She watched it again. The grainy green image of the room. The bed. The bucket. The writing on the wall.

*J. Vance. S. Vance. M. Gable.*

She paused the video on the shot of the room itself. She zoomed in on the details. The way the blanket was folded—military corners. The way the books were stacked—by height. Elias had kept his prison meticulous. It was his only control.

She scanned the floor. There was debris from the flood, but underneath that...

Wait.

She rewound the video to the first few seconds, before the water had risen high enough to obscure the floor.

There was something on the small table next to the bed. A plate.

It looked like a standard paper plate. But there was a logo printed on the rim.

Iris zoomed in until the pixels blurred.

It was red and green. A cartoon chef tossing a pizza.

*Sal's Pizza.*

She knew that logo. It was a new place in town. They had opened six months ago.

Elias had been in that room for thirty years. But he was eating pizza from a place that didn't exist in 1990. Or 2000. Or 2010.

It confirmed he was there recently. But it also told her something else.

Someone had brought him takeout. Not Mrs. Gable’s cooking. Not leftovers from the main house.

Takeout meant a delivery. Or a pickup.

Iris minimized the video and opened her browser. She searched for *Sal's Pizza Mercer County*.

They had an online ordering system.

If Julian or Sabrina ordered food for the prisoner, they would have to pay for it. Cash left a trail if you were careless. Credit cards were worse.

But maybe they used an app.

Iris tapped her chin. If she could hack into their accounts... no. She wasn't a hacker. She was a broke single mother with a liberal arts degree.

But she knew their passwords. Or at least, the one password Julian used for everything. *Mercer1922!*

She went to the pizza place's website. *Login.*

She typed in Julian’s email. *[email protected]*.
Password: *Mercer1922!*

*Incorrect Password.*

She tried Sabrina’s email. *[email protected]*.
Password: *Mercer1922!*

*Welcome back, Sabrina!*

Iris’s breath hitched. She clicked on *Order History*.

It was a litany of kale salads and gluten-free wraps delivered to the art gallery.

But there, buried in the list, were the outliers.

*Friday, Oct 20, 2025 - Large Pepperoni. Delivery to: 1240 High Street, Carriage House.*

*Friday, Oct 27, 2025 - Large Pepperoni. Delivery to: 1240 High Street, Carriage House.*

Every Friday. For months.

But the delivery instructions were specific.

*Leave on porch. Do not knock. Do not ring bell.*

Why?

Because they didn't want the delivery driver to see the prisoner.

But then Iris saw the most recent order.

*Last night. 8:00 PM.*

*Large Pepperoni. Pickup.*

It wasn't delivered. It was picked up. By Sabrina.

And in the snake cam footage, the pizza box on the table was open. One slice eaten.

She noticed something she missed. A plate on the table. It had a logo: 'Sal's Pizza.' A local place that opened last year.