Chapter 3

No one answered.

Martin kicked the front door open.

With a loud bang, the heavy door slammed into the wall, sending snow tumbling down. But that kick felt like he'd just kicked his way into a frozen pit.

There, by the entrance wall, lay a man. It was the old butler, Geoffrey.

He was face down in the snow, a broken knife jutting from his back. The snow beneath him was stained a glaring, dark red.

Because of the cold, the blood had frozen over, like a blood-red flower trapped in ice.

Martin's steps came to an abrupt halt.

His…