Chapter 5: The Room That Remember Me.

The rain started at eleven forty-three.

Serena knew because she had been staring at the clock for the past twenty minutes, pretending she wasn't listening to the sound coming from upstairs.

Three knocks.

A pause.

Then three more.

Not loud.

Not enough to wake someone.

Just enough to make someone wonder if they had actually heard them.

Serena slowly lowered her book.

The library was supposed to be the safest room in Blackwood Estate.

At least, that was what Mrs. Vale had told her.

"Why?" Serena had asked.

The old housekeeper had simply smiled.

"Because Mr. Blackwood doesn't allow anyone to disturb him here."

Serena had laughed at the time.

She wasn't laughing now.

Another three knocks sounded from somewhere above her.

Her eyes lifted toward the ceiling.

West wing.

She knew it immediately.

She had heard that sound before.

The first night she arrived.

The night Lucien had told her not to go upstairs after midnight.

The clock read 11:47.

Serena closed the book.

"Absolutely not."

She stood.

Then stopped.

A strange sensation crawled across her skin.

Someone was watching her.

She looked toward the library doors.

Nothing.

The tall windows.

Nothing.

The fireplace.

Nothing.

Then she heard it.

A whisper.

"Serena."

Her heart stopped.

She spun around.

The room was empty.

"Very funny."

Silence.

Serena swallowed.

"Lucien?"

No answer.

She stepped toward the door.

Another whisper.

This time, it came from behind her.

"Serena..."

She turned.

One of the bookshelves was open.

She was certain it had been closed.

A narrow darkness waited between the shelves.

Serena stared at it.

She should have walked away.

Instead, she whispered—

"Hello?"

Something inside the darkness moved.

Serena's hand went to the nearest lamp.

Then she remembered the rule.

Don't answer if someone calls your name from an empty room.

Her stomach tightened.

She hadn't answered.

Not really.

Had she?

The clock ticked.

11:49.

The darkness between the shelves seemed to breathe.

Then—

click.

A small metal sound.

Serena looked down.

A section of the bookshelf had opened farther.

Behind it was a narrow staircase.

Her mouth went dry.

"You're kidding."

She should have called Lucien.

She knew that.

She also knew he would stop her.

And Serena had begun to hate being told what she couldn't do.

Especially by a man who seemed to know more about her than she knew about herself.

She took one step.

Then another.

The staircase led upward.

The air became colder.

At the top was a narrow corridor.

No portraits.

No furniture.

Just faded wallpaper and a single door at the end.

Serena approached it.

Her fingers touched the handle.

Unlocked.

She pushed it open.

The room beyond was small.

A child's bedroom.

A wooden bed.

A dusty dresser.

A faded blue rug.

A stuffed rabbit sitting against the pillow.

Serena stopped breathing.

She knew that rabbit.

Not because she remembered owning it.

Because she remembered losing it.

A flash struck her mind.

A little girl's hands.

Rain against glass.

Someone laughing.

A man's voice saying—

"Don't cry, little star."

Serena staggered backward.

The memory vanished.

She grabbed the doorframe.

"What the hell..."

Her eyes moved around the room.

On the wall were drawings.

Children's drawings.

Houses.

Trees.

A black sun.

And a family.

A little girl stood beside a boy.

The boy's face had been drawn in black ink.

The girl had yellow hair.

Serena stepped closer.

At the bottom of the drawing was a name.

Sera.

Her pulse began pounding.

Nobody called her Sera.

Nobody.

Except—

"Serena."

She spun around.

Lucien stood in the doorway.

His face had gone completely pale.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then Lucien's gaze moved past her.

To the room.

Something in his expression broke.

"Get out."

Serena frowned.

"What?"

"I said get out."

She had never heard his voice like that.

Not angry.

Terrified.

Serena looked back at the bed.

"Whose room is this?"

Lucien didn't answer.

She faced him.

"Lucien."

"Now."

"Was this mine?"

His silence was answer enough.

Serena's heart slammed against her ribs.

"You knew."

He closed his eyes.

"Serena..."

"You knew."

"I knew there was a possibility."

"A possibility?"

Her laugh came out bitter.

"There are drawings with my name on them."

"I know."

"My childhood toy is sitting on that bed."

"I know."

"And you're telling me this is a possibility?"

Lucien stepped inside.

"Listen to me."

"No."

"Serena."

"No."

She backed away.

"You've been lying to me since I got here."

"I've been trying to protect you."

"From what?"

Lucien looked at the dark hallway behind her.

Then back at her.

"From remembering."

Serena froze.

"What does that mean?"

He didn't answer.

She stepped toward him.

"What happened to me here?"

His jaw tightened.

"You were seven."

The room seemed to tilt.

"Seven?"

Lucien nodded.

"You were here."

"Why?"

"My father."

Her stomach twisted.

"What did your father do?"

Lucien looked toward the old bed.

"He wasn't the man everyone thought he was."

A cold breeze passed through the room.

The bedroom door slammed shut.

Both of them turned.

Serena's heart jumped.

Lucien crossed the room immediately and tried the handle.

Locked.

"Lucien?"

"Stay behind me."

"I hate when you say that."

"Serena."

The lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Then went out.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Serena heard Lucien breathing.

Then—

a child's voice whispered from the corner.

"Don't let them take me."

Lucien went still.

Serena stared into the darkness.

She knew that voice.

It was hers.

The lights came back.

The room was empty.

But on the wall, beneath the children's drawings, new words had appeared.

Written in black.

YOU CAME BACK.