Chapter 4

Eliana did not sleep.

Every time she drifted toward unconsciousness, the sound returned. It was soft at first, almost indistinguishable from the wind moving through the old walls, but eventually it became unmistakable. She could hear a woman crying. She would sit up in bed, listening until the sound disappeared, only to hear it again several minutes later from somewhere farther down the corridor.

By three in the morning, she had stopped trying to convince herself that it was the pipes. There were no pipes in the world that sounded like someone quietly sobbing. By seven, however, she had almost convinced herself that she had imagined it.

Perhaps the strange house, the unfamiliar surroundings and everything she had learned about Drevian Wolfe had finally gotten into her head.

Perhaps that was what fear did. It made ordinary things look suspicious.

Eliana left her bedroom at seven-thirty. Mrs. Brooks was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast as though the previous night had never happened.

"Good morning, Mrs. Brooks."

"Good morning, Mrs. Wolfe."

Eliana still hadn't become accustomed to being called that.

She pulled out a chair.

"Coffee, please."

Mrs. Brooks poured her a cup without looking up. Eliana wrapped both hands around it, letting the warmth settle into her fingers. For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then Eliana said, "About last night..."

Mrs. Brooks set the coffee pot down.

"Nothing happened."

Eliana looked at her.

"I didn't say what happened." The housekeeper's expression remained perfectly composed.

"You were going to."

Eliana studied her carefully.

"You heard it too."

Mrs. Brooks did not answer.

"You knew exactly what I was talking about before I even said anything."

"I've worked in this house for a long time." The woman said.

"That doesn't answer my question."

Mrs. Brooks turned toward the counter.

"Some things in this house are better left alone."

Eliana placed her cup down.

"You said something similar yesterday."

"Then perhaps you should listen this time."

Eliana stared at her. There was no fear in Mrs. Brooks's voice, but there was something else.

Experience.

It was as though she had learned long ago that certain questions were not worth asking twice.

"Who was the woman in the photograph?"

Mrs. Brooks finally looked at her.

"You already know who she was."

"Isabella."

Mrs. Brooks said nothing.

"The first Mrs. Wolfe."

The older woman lowered her gaze.

"Yes." Eliana waited.

"How did she die?" Mrs. Brooks's face tightened.

Before she could answer, footsteps sounded in the hallway. Drevian entered the kitchen.

His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and there were faint shadows beneath his eyes. He looked as though he had spent the night working rather than sleeping.

His attention went immediately to Eliana.

"I didn't make it back to dinner last night. I apologize."

Eliana nodded.

"That's fine." He reached for a cup.

She watched him for a moment before saying, "I heard something."

His hand stopped.

"What?"

"A woman crying. We both heard it."

Something changed in his expression.

It was subtle enough that another person might have missed it, but Eliana was watching him closely.

"You heard nothing." He said.

"I’m sure I heard someone."

Mrs. Brooks quietly gathered the dishes from the counter.

"Excuse me." She left the kitchen before either of them could stop her.

Eliana waited until the door closed behind her.

"Why did she leave?" Drevian looked at the doorway.

"Because she knows when she isn't needed."

"Or because she knows something." His eyes returned to hers.

"Eliana."

The way he said her name made her pause.

"Even if you want to investigate this house, don't do it alone."

"I'm not trying to investigate anything." He gave her a look that made it clear he didn't believe her.

"Then don't go looking for what isn't your business."

"That's difficult to do when I live here."

"You've been here less than a day."

"And I've already heard a woman crying in a house where apparently nobody is supposed to be."

Drevian's jaw tightened.

"There are places you should not go."

"Like where?" His gaze held hers.

"The east side of the estate." Eliana immediately thought of the photograph.

"Why?"

"Because it is closed." Drevian answered.

"That doesn't explain anything."

"It is the answer you're getting." He turned away.

"Drevian." He stopped.

Eliana stepped closer.

"The woman in the photograph…" He looked over his shoulder.

"What photograph?"

"The one in the hallway." There was a pause, on both ends.

"The woman in the photograph was your first wife."

"Yes."

"Isabella?" He nodded.

Eliana folded her arms.

"You've been researching me. So, I did some research of my own."

"Your research isn't the problem." Drevian said, amused at her thinking process.

"What is?"

"You don't understand what you're stepping into."

His words were quieter now. Eliana remembered what he had told her in his office.

Someone killed his wives. And if she became his wife, they might come for her too.

"Then explain it to me."

Drevian looked at her for several seconds.

"Isabella was twenty-seven when she died." Drevian said.

"How?"

"She fell." Eliana frowned. That wasn’t what was said in the news.

"From where?"

"A cliff."

"Was it an accident?" Drevian’s eyes met hers, steady and unblinking.

"It looked like it. But, no."

Eliana felt a chill move through her.

"Then what happened?"

"I don't know." She stared at him.

"You don't know?"

"When I found her, she was already dead."

There was no hesitation in his answer and no attempt to soften it. Eliana's voice became quieter.

"Was she afraid before she died?"

Drevian looked away.

"She had been afraid for weeks."

"Of you?"

"No." Drevian shook his head.

"Then who?"

"I never found out."

"Did she tell you?"

"She tried."

"What did she say?" Drevian's expression hardened.

"She told me someone was watching her."

Eliana thought of the photograph from the previous night.

SHE KNEW TOO MUCH.

"What did she know?" She had to ask.

"I don't know."

"You're lying." His eyes sharpened.

"You've known me for what? Less than a week."

"And I already know when you're avoiding a question."

For several seconds, neither of them moved. Then Drevian reached into his pocket and he placed an old black key on the table between them.

Eliana looked down at it.

"The east side."

Her gaze lifted.

"You just told me not to go there."

"I told you not to go there alone." Drevian rebutted.

"What's the difference?"

"If you are determined to find answers, you might as well know where to look."

She picked up the key. It was heavier than it looked.

"Why are you giving me this?"

"I'm not." Eliana frowned.

"You literally just gave it to me."

"I'm giving you a warning." He answered and walked away.

Eliana watched him leave and then she looked down at the key in her palm. She knew she should return it. Instead, she closed her fingers around it.