All Chapters of Another Chance : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Darkness Between UsRissa’s POVI didn’t sleep.Even after Mark checked the perimeter of the estate three times, he sat in the chair across from the bed like a silent, immovable mountain, watching over me with eyes that never blinked. I couldn’t close mine.My fingers kept tracing the crack in the pendant, like touching it could make it whole again. The jagged line down the center split more than just a stone. It split the last shred of protection I believed I had. My mother gave it to me. Told me it would keep me safe. But it broke… it broke the moment that voice found me.“Rissa,” Mark’s voice was low, quiet. “Try to sleep.”“I can’t,” I whispered. My throat was raw. My insides curled and coiled like snakes. “It’s still out there.”Mark didn’t argue. He didn’t give me empty reassurances either. I appreciated that. I didn’t want lies, I wanted answers. I wanted to understand what had just happened in the woods and why that presence had come for me.My fingers clenched the ruined pend

Deep QuestionsRissa’s POVThe garden had changed.Or maybe I had.I sat on the low stone bench nestled between the wisteria vines and wild roses that curled like quiet sentinels around the edge of the estate. The moonlight filtered through the branches, silvery and soft, pooling over the damp earth. I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, pressing my knuckles to my lips as if that could hold everything in.The wind shifted.Footsteps.I didn’t turn. Not at first. The cadence was too familiar—calm, measured, but with a purpose. Not Mark.“Rissa,” Eamon’s voice said gently. “May I?”I looked up to find him standing near the stone arch, his lean figure half-shadowed, dressed in dark slacks and a loose linen shirt. His auburn hair had grown slightly longer since I’d last seen him, brushing his jaw. A few days ago, I might’ve bristled. Now, I just nodded.“Sure,” I whispered.He sat beside me without another word. The silence stretched between us, not heavy, but questioning.“Yo

Rissa’s POVBetween WallsThe rain had eased sometime during the night, but I could still hear it dripping from the eaves when I woke. The sky outside my window was pale and washed out, the kind of morning that made you want to stay under the covers and pretend the world could wait.I sat up slowly, my muscles stiff from sleeping in one position too long. The mattress still held the faint warmth from where Mark had been earlier. I remembered the way he had stood behind me last night, the quiet in his voice when he promised he wouldn’t walk away. The memory steadied me, but it also left a knot in my chest.I dressed without hurry, pulling on the first sweater I found, the one with sleeves that hung past my wrists. The hallway was dim when I stepped out, lit only by the few candles the servants had set before dawn. My footsteps sounded too loud against the stone.Downstairs, the estate was already stirring. A few of the kitchen staff passed me with baskets of bread and crates of fruit,

Rissa’s POVThe Silence Between the QuestionsThe walk to the council room felt longer than it should. My boots made almost no sound against the carpet, but my thoughts refused to stay quiet. Every time I blinked, I saw those amber eyes in the torchlight. I saw the crack in the wall like it had been holding its breath for years, waiting for the moment it would split open.The council chamber wasn’t made for grandeur. It was a narrow room with a long table worn by years of elbows and ink stains, lit by a single chandelier. Only four people waited inside: three council members and the steward, Hale, standing at the head of the table. No scribes. No guards.Mark stepped in first and set the crowbar on the table. Eamon followed, dropping the scrap of parchment beside it. I stayed near the door. The spiral on the parchment still looked like it might start moving if you stared too long.Hale’s gaze shifted from the objects to Mark. “Report.”Mark’s voice was clipped as he gave the account—w

Shadows at DawnRissa’s POVThe east wing looked different in the daylight.Morning light stretched long across the floorboards, pale and cold. It should have felt like relief after the night we’d just had, but it didn’t. The brightness didn’t chase away the fear; it sharpened it. What had been hidden in shadow was now laid bare, but not in a way that soothed. If anything, it felt like the light had stripped the place of something, leaving it hollow.The corridor seemed emptier than it had hours before, as if the silence of the night had drained something from the walls. The portraits still hung in their gilded frames, but they looked flat, less alive than they had under the lantern glow. Their painted faces seemed tired, like they too had been forced to keep watch.The windows gave us a clean view of the gardens now. No black glass. No warped reflections. Roses bent in the breeze, dew catching the early light. By every measure of reason, it should have been ordinary. Safe.But none o