LOGINAurora's POVBy the second day I had stopped going to the door.Not because I'd given up, but because the energy it cost to stand and try the handle and confirm what I already knew was energy I needed for other things. Like staying calm. Like thinking clearly. Like not letting the room shrink around me the way rooms did when you'd been inside them too long with nothing but your own thoughts.Nobody came to the door.Not once.On the second evening I stopped knocking and sat cross-legged on the floor with my back against the wall beneath the window and I thought about my mother. Mireille. I'd known her name my whole life, it was the one thing Dad had never stripped from me, perhaps because keeping it cost him nothing. But I had never known her as a person. I had been given the outline of her, beautiful, beloved, taken too soon. The kind of description people gave when they didn't want to give you anything real.Evelyn knew her. Evelyn had grown up beside her, watched her fall in love,
Aurora's POVI shouldn't have gone back.That was the thought sitting at the back of my mind the entire drive to the Sinclair house, quiet, persistent, the kind of thought you hear clearly and choose to ignore because you've already made your decision and talking yourself out of it feels like too much work. Evelyn had told me to return to the mansion. She'd been specific about it. Go back. I'll contact you.But my father was in that house. Whatever Reginald Sinclair was or wasn't, whatever had been true or performed over the course of my entire life, he was the only version of a father I had. I wasn't ready to walk away from the burial of his wife without seeing him first. I needed to look at him. I needed to see his face with everything Evelyn had told me sitting fresh in my chest and understand what I was actually looking at.So I told the driver to take me to the Sinclair house instead.The place looked smaller than I remembered. That happened sometimes when you'd been living somew
The call came on a Thursday.I was in the middle of folding laundry… something the mansion staff would have done without being asked, but I needed something to do with my hands that morning. The folding helped. The repetition of it. Shirt, sleeve, sleeve, fold. Shirt, sleeve, sleeve, fold. A rhythm small enough to live inside when everything else felt too large.My phone buzzed on the dresser. Natalia's name on the screen.I almost didn't answer. We hadn't spoken since the last visit, and that conversation had left marks. But something made me pick up, some old reflex, some part of me that still believed bad news was better faced directly."She's gone," Natalia said. No greeting. No softening. "Last night. Heart failure, they're saying."The shirt in my hands went still."Aurora." Her voice sharpened the way it did when she wanted a reaction and wasn't getting one fast enough. "Did you hear me? Mother is dead.""I heard you," I said.A pause. I could hear her breathing. "The funeral i
The study was dark when I finally came downstairs.I hadn't meant to. I'd spent an hour staring at the ceiling in my room, running my fingers over the places on my shoulders where his hands had been, replaying the way his breathing had changed, the way his forehead had almost touched mine. The way he'd pulled back like I'd burned him.Not like this, he'd said.What did that mean? Not like this. Like this was wrong, or like this wasn't the right moment, or like he was one breath away from something he couldn't take back and he knew it?I gave up on sleep around midnight and wrapped a cardigan around myself and went downstairs, not thinking about where I was going until I was already standing in the hallway outside his study door.The light was on underneath it.I almost turned around. I told myself to turn around. My feet didn't move.I knocked twice, light, like I wasn't sure I wanted an answer."Come in."His voice was rough. Tired. I pushed the door open.He was at his desk, jacket
The hospital visit had shifted something between us. Lucian had been quieter since we returned, but his eyes followed me everywhere. During breakfast the next morning, he didn’t sit across from me like usual. Instead, he pulled out the chair right beside his.“Sit here tonight,” he said, voice low but firm.I hesitated for a second before sitting down. The closeness made everything feel heavier. Mrs. Hale served the food, and for the first few minutes we ate in silence. But I could feel him watching me, his shoulder occasionally brushing mine when he reached for something. Every small contact sent a spark through me.Finally, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I turned to face him. “Why are you doing this, Lucian? One minute you’re cold and giving me rules, the next you’re holding my hand in the car or pulling me close during the storm. I don’t understand you. Your mixed signals are driving me crazy.”He set his fork down slowly and turned to me. His grey eyes were dark and intense. “You
Mrs. Hale found me in the library the next morning. Her face was serious, and she spoke gently. “Miss Aurora, there’s news from the Sinclair house. Isadora’s condition has gotten much worse. The doctors are very concerned.”I set my book down slowly, my stomach twisting. “Worse how?”“They said it’s some kind of mysterious illness. She’s very weak now. They’re not sure how much time she has.”The words hit me hard. I stood up, feeling unsteady. Isadora had been cruel for so many years, but there was still that small part of me that remembered the woman who used to bake cookies with me and read bedtime stories. The woman who had once felt like a mother.“I need to see her,” I said when Lucian came down for breakfast. My voice shook. “Please, Lucian. Just one visit. I know she hurt me, but I can’t just pretend she doesn’t exist.”Lucian looked at me for a long moment, his jaw tight. “It’s not safe, Aurora. Reginald and Natalia are still there.”“I know,” I replied, stepping closer. “But
The days felt longer now. Every morning started the same way, breakfast with Lucian where he reminded me of the rules in that cold, clipped voice, then long hours of silence while he worked and I tried to fill the empty spaces in this huge house. I read in the library, walked in the garden when the
The days were starting to blur together. I woke up every morning in that big, quiet guest room, stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, and tried to remember that this was my life now. No more waking up to Isadora’s sharp voice or Natalia’s mocking laughter. I got dressed in simple clothes again
By the time the clock showed past midnight, I gave up on sleep. I slipped on a robe over my nightdress and went downstairs to the kitchen. Mrs. Hale had shown me where everything was, and I figured making coffee couldn’t hurt. Maybe it was stupid, trying to be nice after everything. But sitting alo
The next few days settled into a strange rhythm. Mornings were quiet unless Lucian summoned me for another set of rules or a clipped conversation over breakfast. I spent most of my time in the library or wandering the parts of the mansion I was allowed in, always half-expecting him to appear and re







