In the fall of 1980, four nuns from a small village vanished without a clue, casting their devoted community into a haze of sorrow and uneasy rumors

Deputy Reynolds straightened up, his expression now grave. That’s definitely someone down there, and from the sound of that cough, they may need medical attention. We need to speak with Mr. Redwood immediately, Deputy Williams decided.

This is now a welfare check at minimum. I don’t understand, Harold said, shaking his head in bewilderment. This air vent wasn’t here when the chapel stood, and there was never any basement or underground room.

How could anyone be down there? That’s what we aim to find out, Deputy Williams replied, his tone suggesting he had shifted fully into investigative mode. Let’s head to Redwood’s residence. The four men made their way back to the road and their respective vehicles.

Following the deputy’s cruiser, Father Elias and Harold drove the short distance to Silas Redwood’s main house. The imposing structure seemed more forbidding than ever as they approached, its many windows like watchful eyes surveying their arrival. Deputy Williams instructed Father Elias and Harold to remain by their vehicles while he and Deputy Reynolds approached the front door.

Father Elias watched as the officers knocked and waited, tension evident in their postures despite their professional demeanor. Several moments passed before the door opened, but it wasn’t Silas Redwood who emerged. Instead, the group saw him approaching from the rear of the property, still dressed in his exercise clothes and leading a large German shepherd on a leash.

His expression shifted rapidly from polite inquiry to barely contained fury when he spotted Father Elias and Harold standing near the officers’ cruiser. What is the meaning of this? Redwood demanded as he reached the front steps. Why are these trespassers on my property again? Deputy Williams introduced himself and his partner, explaining the purpose of their visit in measured tones.

We received a report of sounds coming from what appears to be an underground structure at the former chapel site. We’d like to ask you a few questions about that, sir. Redwood’s face flushed with anger.

This is outrageous! First this priest shows up uninvited, trespasses through my fence and on my land, and now he’s making wild accusations and wasting police resources. No one is making accusations, Mr. Redwood, Deputy Reynolds said calmly. We’re simply following up on a welfare concern.

Someone appears to be in an underground space on your property, and they sound like they may need medical attention. That’s absurd! Redwood snapped. There’s no one on my property except me and my dogs.

I would know if someone were living in a, what, a secret underground bunker. Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? Nevertheless, sir, we’re obligated to investigate, Deputy Williams said firmly. We’d like permission to check your home and the grounds, including any basement areas.

Absolutely not, Redwood’s hand tightened on the dog’s leash, causing the animal to shift restlessly. This is private property. You have no right to search without a warrant.

Mr. Redwood, Deputy Reynolds began, his tone reasonable but insistent. If there’s someone in distress on your property, even a trespasser you’re unaware of, wouldn’t you want to know about it? This could be a squatter who’s found their way into some old structure you don’t even know exists. Redwood’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

There are no old structures I don’t know about. I’ve owned this land for over 25 years. I know every inch of it.

Then what about the air vent near the former chapel site, Deputy Williams asked, the one that appears to ventilate an underground space? For a fraction of a second something flickered in Redwood’s expression, a momentary faltering that Father Elias caught before the man’s face hardened once more into obstinate refusal. I installed a drainage system when I landscaped that area, Redwood said dismissively. What you’re calling an air vent is probably just a decorative grate covering a drainpipe.

There’s nothing sinister about it. A drainage system doesn’t sing hymns or cough, Mr. Redwood, Deputy Williams observed dryly. Redwood turned his glare toward Father Elias.

This man has clearly orchestrated this entire situation. He probably brought some device that plays recorded sounds and planted it near the drain. He’s harassing me because he resents that I bought church property.

I would never do such a thing, Father Elias protested, crossing himself. As God is my witness, I heard a woman’s voice coming from that vent. We all heard it just now.

Redwood scoffed. A priest invoking God while trespassing and lying? How very typical! That’s enough, Mr. Redwood, Deputy Williams said sharply. We’re asking for your voluntary cooperation.

If you refuse, we’ll have no choice but to pursue other legal avenues. Then pursue them, Redwood replied coldly. In the meantime, I want these people off my property immediately…