The dramatic part is yet to come.

Daniel’s pulse thuds in his ears. The camera slowly sinks to floor level, tracking his knees as they hit the oak wood beside Inés.

DANIEL

(Voice barely a whisper)

Inés... what did you say?

INÉS

He’s under the floor, Daddy. He’s sleeping in the dark box.

[CAMERA PAN TO PATRICIA]

Patricia steps forward, her heels clicking too loudly against the hardwood. Her face is a mask of strained composure, but sweat glimmers at her hairline.

PATRICIA

Daniel, get her up from there. She’s traumatizing herself. It’s just an old house—the wood creaks, the pipes settle—

MARIANA

(Screaming, voice breaking)

SHUT UP, PATRICIA!

Mariana drops to her knees beside her daughter, ignoring the spilled coffee soaking into her jeans. She presses her ear directly against the seam of the floorboards.

Silence fills the room for two agonizing seconds. Then—a faint, rhythmic TAP... TAP... TAP... vibrates through the wood.

[CAMERA ANGLE: EXTREME CLOSE-UP - THE FLOORBOARD SEAM]

Daniel doesn't hesitate. He grabs a heavy brass candleholder from a side table and slams it into the edge of the floorboard. Patricia gasps, reaching into her pocket for her phone.

PATRICIA

Stop! You're destroying my house!

Daniel ignores her, wedging the metal into the narrow gap and prying with all his strength. With a sickening CRACK, the pristine wood snaps upward.

It isn't a solid subfloor beneath.

It is a hidden trapdoor, sealed with a brand-new brass padlock.

DANIEL

(Turning to Patricia, eyes full of horror)

Where is the key?

PATRICIA

(Backing away toward the front door)

You don't understand... I didn't mean to—it was an accident... he saw where I kept the money—

MARIANA

THE KEY, PATRICIA!

Before Patricia can touch the doorknob, Mariana lunges, tackling her to the rug. The heavy keychain slips from Patricia's pocket and skitters across the floor.

Daniel snatches the keys, his hands shaking so violently he nearly drops them. He jams a small silver key into the lock. It turns with a heavy CLICK.

He throws the trapdoor back.

[CAMERA SLOWLY TILTS DOWN INTO THE DARKNESS]

A narrow wooden ladder leads down into a lit, hidden cellar room beneath the foundation. Lying on a small mattress, clutching a faded red toy car, a pale, thin seven-year-old boy blinks up at the light.

LEO

(Weakly)

...Daddy?

Daniel lets out a guttural sob, collapsing onto the ladder steps to reach his son, while police sirens begin to wail in the distance outside.