Letters in the Shadow의 모든 챕터: 챕터 1 - 챕터 10

​I gripped my wool scarf tighter around my neck as the chilly autumn wind swept through our stone courtyard. My breathing was still shallow, the icy terror from my nightmare echoing behind my eyelids every time I blinked.​The dining room table was set with our finest porcelain plates and silver cutlery, illuminated by the warm, flickering glow of beeswax candles. The air smelled of my mother’s delicious roasted savory meats and fresh rosemary, but the scent did nothing to ease the tight knot in my stomach.​My father sat at the head of the long oak table, looking distinguished in his crisp military uniform. My mother, Sofia, sat beside him with her usual gentle smile, while my older brother, Alvaro, looked puff-chested and proud to introduce his university acquaintance. My little brother, Enzo, was kicking his legs under his chair, eyeing the bread basket hungrily. ​Then my eyes landed on Gabriel. ​He sat directly across from me. He wore a dark linen shirt beneath a tailored black

​For the first time in weeks, the golden morning light felt soft against my skin rather than cold and threatening. Sitting beneath the ancient jasmine tree in the school courtyard, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, heady scent of white blossoms drifting in the crisp autumn breeze. ​Beside me, Mateo leaned back against the gnarled wooden trunk, flipping through a heavy leather-bound poetry book. His dark hair fell loosely across his forehead, and his expression was completely relaxed. In the quiet warmth of the afternoon, the terrifying shadows of the basement, the strange black envelopes, and Gabriel’s cold warnings felt like nothing more than a bad dream I had finally managed to wake up from. ​"You're quiet today, Sarah," Mateo murmured, his voice gentle as he turned a yellowed page. He looked over at me, offering a faint, boyish smile that instantly melted the tight knot in my chest. "Usually, you're complaining about the tenth-grade literature assignm

I stood frozen in the dim light of the attic, the ancient parchment still clutched in my trembling hands and Gabriel’s suffocating presence looming right behind me. Before I could even force a breath into my lungs, the heavy clatter of iron wheels and the rhythmic beating of hooves echoed loudly from the cobbled street outside our gates. "Saved by the arrival of beloved guests, a little bird," Gabriel murmured softly into my ear, his cold breath brushing against my neck before his shadow vanished silently into the rafters above. Heart pounding, I shoved the parchment back into the rusted iron chest, closed the lid, and rushed down the rickety wooden ladder. Downstairs, the entire house was already bursting into motion. My mother, Sofia, was hurriedly wiping her hands on her apron, while my father, Roberto, smoothed the front of his dark military coat. My older brother, Alvaro, had finally returned home from his university studies. I stood near the bottom of the staircase, pulling my

​The damp, suffocating cold of the subterranean chamber pressed against my chest as the echoes of Victor’s departing footsteps faded into absolute silence. Darkness surrounded me—thick, heavy, and impenetrable. I stood frozen near the iron-studded oak door, my lungs taking in short, desperate breaths of stale underground air. Panic threatened to paralyze my mind, but the coarse parchment of the Crimson Vow still gripped tightly in my right hand, served as an unyielding reminder of the stakes. My family was in grave danger, and I could not afford to break. ​I extended my arms into the pitch-black void, feeling my way along the rough, moisture-beaded stone walls. Step by step, I navigated the perimeter of the room until my fingers brushed against a narrow wooden chute protruding near the ceiling—the old coal chute that led out toward the rear garden. The wooden hatch at the top was slightly warped from age and dampness, leaving a tiny sliver of pale twilight filtering down through t

​The silence in the grand marble hall of the manor was deafening, broken only by the crackle of burning beeswax tapestries and the ragged breathing of my father. He thrashed against his iron chains, the rust-colored iron scraping loudly across the stone floor. His face was bruised and streaked with soot, yet his eyes burned with a fierce, desperate light as he stared up at me. ​"Sarah, no!" He bellowed, his voice raw and cracking. "Do not let them force your hand! Let them take me to the gallows! Death is an honorable end—becoming servant to The Crimson Crest is an eternal curse!" ​Victor stepped forward, his leather boots striking the floor with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Without a word, he unclasped a heavy steel-tipped riding crop from his belt. He raised it high and struck my father across the shoulder. My father gasped as he collapsed onto his elbows, coughing violently into the dust. ​"Quiet, old man," Victor said coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Your glory da