Chapter 6: The Boy in the Photograph

Serena didn't sleep.

She sat on the edge of her bed until sunrise, staring at the words she'd seen upstairs.

YOU CAME BACK.

Not welcome back.

Not we missed you.

You came back.

As if someone had expected her.

As if her arrival hadn't been an accident.

At six thirty in the morning, Serena finally decided she was done being afraid.

Fear had gotten her nowhere.

Questions might.

She went downstairs.

Lucien was already in the dining room.

He was dressed in black, as usual.

A cup of coffee sat untouched in front of him.

His eyes lifted when she entered.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Good morning to you too."

"Serena."

"I want answers."

"You aren't ready."

"I'll decide that."

He stared at her.

For a moment, something almost like admiration crossed his face.

Then it disappeared.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"That's impossible."

"Then start with what happened when I was seven."

Lucien leaned back.

His expression became unreadable.

"You came here with your mother."

Serena sat opposite him.

"My mother worked for your father?"

"Yes."

"What did she do?"

"She was his assistant."

"That doesn't explain why I lived here."

"You didn't live here."

"You just told me I was here."

"For several months."

Serena stared at him.

"Why?"

Lucien looked toward the window.

"My father liked having people dependent on him."

There was something bitter in his voice.

"Your mother needed money. He offered her a position."

"And me?"

"You were always with her."

Serena's fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

"What happened?"

Lucien didn't answer.

She pushed her chair back.

"Fine."

She stood.

"I'll find out myself."

He caught her wrist.

She looked down at his hand.

Then up at him.

Neither moved.

His fingers loosened.

"I'm not your enemy."

"Then stop treating me like I am."

"I don't."

"You hide things from me."

"Because the truth could hurt you."

"Maybe I'm tired of being protected from my own life."

Something changed in his eyes.

For one dangerous second, the distance between them disappeared.

Serena became aware of his hand still around her wrist.

His thumb moved slightly.

Neither of them spoke.

Then the grandfather clock chimed.

They stepped apart.

Lucien cleared his throat.

"The archive."

"What?"

"My father kept records."

"Where?"

"The west wing."

Serena stared at him.

"You told me never to go there."

"I know."

"Now you're sending me there?"

"No."

He stood.

"I'm going with you."

The archive smelled of dust and old paper.

Lucien unlocked a heavy wooden door hidden behind a painting.

Rows of documents filled the room.

Serena ran her fingers over the folders.

"How long have these been here?"

"Decades."

She began searching.

Employees.

Property records.

Medical records.

Old photographs.

Then she found a folder marked:

VALE, MARA

Her breath caught.

"My mother."

Lucien went still.

Serena opened it.

Inside were employment papers.

A photograph.

A handwritten note.

And one photograph that made her blood run cold.

She picked it up.

It showed three people standing outside Blackwood Estate.

A young woman.

Gabriel Blackwood.

And a boy.

Serena stared at the boy.

He was perhaps twelve years old.

Dark hair.

Sharp eyes.

The same expression she had seen on Lucien.

She turned the photograph over.

There was a date.

Seventeen years ago.

And underneath it, written in her mother's handwriting:

Serena and Lucien.

Serena looked at Lucien.

"Why is there a picture of us?"

Lucien didn't answer.

"How old were you?"

"Thirteen."

"And me?"

"Seven."

"You remember this day?"

His eyes remained fixed on the photograph.

"Every second."

"Then tell me what happened."

Lucien's face hardened.

"We were playing."

"Playing what?"

"Hide-and-seek."

Serena frowned.

"That's all?"

"No."

He looked at her.

"You hid in the west wing."

Her stomach dropped.

"What happened next?"

Lucien swallowed.

"I found you."

"And?"

"You were crying."

"Why?"

"Because you said someone was inside the walls."

Serena stared at him.

"What?"

"You said you could hear a woman."

A cold sensation spread down her spine.

"What did she say?"

Lucien looked away.

"She knew your name."

Silence.

Serena picked up another document.

A handwritten page.

Her mother's handwriting.

The words were barely legible.

If Serena ever remembers the woman, keep her away from the west bedroom.

Serena's blood went cold.

"Lucien."

He didn't move.

"What's the west bedroom?"

His silence told her everything.

She turned toward him.

"You've been keeping me away from it."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because that's where she disappeared."

Serena stared at him.

"Who?"

Lucien's eyes met hers.

"The woman in the walls."

Before Serena could respond, something fell from the shelf behind them.

A photograph.

It landed face-up.

Serena picked it up.

It showed her.

At seven years old.

Standing in front of the forbidden bedroom.

Beside her stood Lucien.

But there was someone else in the photograph.

A woman.

Standing behind them.

Her face had been scratched out.

Serena turned the picture over.

Three words had been written across the back.

SHE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING.

Then the archive door slammed shut.

From somewhere outside came a woman's laughter.

Lucien went pale.

"Don't open the door."

Serena whispered—

"Why?"

Because the laughter had stopped.

And something was now scratching on the other side.

Slowly.

Three times.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Then a woman's voice whispered through the wood.

"Lucien..."

His face changed.

Serena had never seen him look so afraid.

The voice spoke again.

"Did you tell her?"