“Can you hear that,” Christopher asked quietly, his voice strained. “There is a baby crying inside this wall.”
Victoria exhaled slowly, as if speaking to a stubborn child.
“It is probably the ventilation system echoing sound from Oliver’s monitor. These smart houses do strange things at night.”
“No,” Christopher replied firmly. “Oliver is asleep. I checked twice. This sound is coming from here.”
Victoria walked closer, her bare feet making no sound on the marble. She leaned in and placed her ear against the wall where he pointed. At first her face was neutral. Then something flickered in her eyes. Fear. Recognition. It disappeared quickly, replaced by a forced smile.
“It must be pipes,” she said. “Water moving through them sometimes creates strange noises.”
“This house is only six years old,” Christopher answered, his patience thinning. “The pipes do not cry like a baby.”
Victoria straightened and crossed her arms.
“You are overreacting because you are tired. Please come back to bed. We can call maintenance in the morning.”
Christopher stared at her, suddenly noticing how carefully she avoided looking at the wall.
“If you are so sure there is nothing there,” he said, “then you will not mind if I open it.”
Victoria froze.
“Open it,” she repeated, her voice tight. “Chris, that plaster is custom finished. It cost a fortune. You cannot destroy the house because of a sound.”
“I do not care about the house,” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “If a child is crying in my home, I will find out why.”
Victoria stepped in front of him, her eyes glossy with sudden tears.
“If you break that wall,” she whispered, “everything changes. Our family will never be the same again.”
Christopher felt cold spread through his chest.
“What are you hiding,” he asked. “What is behind that wall.”
Victoria shook her head without answering. That silence was all the confirmation he needed.
Christopher turned away, walked downstairs, and entered the garage. Luxury vehicles stood in polished rows, silent monuments to success. He opened a steel tool cabinet and grabbed the heaviest hammer he could find. He also took a flashlight, then slipped his phone into his pocket with a thought that came unbidden.
If something is there, I will need proof. He returned upstairs. Victoria was still in the hallway, her phone clutched in her hand, her breathing unsteady.