Over The Garden Wall Unknown Novels & Stories

“Funny how the garden smells like someone who doesn’t belong.” She didn’t flinch. She never did. That was her strength and her flaw. “I needed space. That’s not a crime, is it?” I leaned against the wall beside her, arms folded, eyes trained on the moonlight casting silver across her face. “Who was he?” She blinked once, slowly. Calculated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “You do.” My tone sharpened. “Someone was in that garden. Not Nolan. Not Caleb. Not anyone I know. And yet, you were calm enough to sit there with him.”

“Look.” Frowning, I join her by the window and look out over the gardens. I expect to see a league of Templars or fighting wolves or maybe even witches getting ready to attack, I did not expect to see the curtain of white that had been pulled over the world. I can just about make out the ghosts of the trees in our garden.

I looked at my hands. The rosemary sprig. How had Richard Hayes known about the enclosed garden? I turned the question over. The enclosed garden was not on the estate’s public literature. It was not on any of the coverage from the week. It was not something you found by arriving at the gate and walking around. Someone had told him. Someone who knew the estate well enough to know where the enclosed garden was. I pressed the rosemary between my fingers. The smell sharp and cold. I looked at Elaine.

I paused at the entrance for a second, letting my eyes adjust. That’s when I heard it. A low, ragged sound half breath, half groan coming from the far end of the garden, near the biggest stone bench where a thick climbing plant had overgrown the wall like a dark curtain. I moved toward it slowly, keeping my steps quiet on the stone path. He was on the ground.

I looked at her. She was beautiful. She had always been beautiful. It had never been the problem. She tilted her face up and I stood there for a moment and then her arms came around my neck and the moon pool reflected both of us silver and still and I thought about nothing in particular. Then I heard it. A sound from the far edge of the garden, near the low hedges that bordered the eastern wall. The specific sound of something trying very hard not to make a sound. I pulled back.

“Even if she tells Yselle to come in alone.” “Yes.” He nodded once, accepting what was never really under debate. Then he said, “You should change the east perimeter rotation.” I turned toward him fully. "Why?" “Because someone watched the garden yesterday between sixteen-forty and sixteen-fifty-two.” That sharpened everything at once. “Show me.” He handed me the tablet and reopened the feed list. Static. Path. Terrace. Rose house angle. Then the garden wall line. A figure too distant for face, too careful for innocence, standing near the hedge break where no guest ever wandered on purpose.

She tucked her arm through mine. "You and I are going to walk." "Yes." "Atlas is staying in the kitchen with Maria, answering the calls he hasn't been answering all morning." "All right." We walked. She didn't speak for the first thirty steps. She let me look. The garden ran down a slight slope from the back of the house to a low stone wall at the far edge, beyond which the property opened onto a long meadow with a single oak in the middle. The oak was older than the house.

Lysander asks. "Hear what?" He grins. "The gardeners." I listen. In the distance, coming from the other side of the garden wall, I hear voices. And coughing. A lot of coughing. Aggressive, pointed coughing that is clearly trying to tell us something. My face gets hot. My hands fly to my mouth. "The gardeners," I whisper. "They heard us." Lysander's grin widens. "They definitely heard us." I bury my face in his chest and groan. "This is so embarrassing."

Love you. I snort. Type: *Love you too.* I’m about to put the phone down when another message pops up. Unknown number: *Cute house.* My blood runs cold. Another: *Nice crib.* Attached is a grainy photo of the outside of the estate wall. Then, a shot of a long‑lens view through trees: just a sliver of stone, a curtain, a lamppost. They don’t show me. They don’t show Sofie.

"Meet me in the garden at midnight. There's something I need to show you. - K" Amanda's heart skipped a beat. She knew she shouldn't go. She knew it was dangerous. But she couldn't resist the pull. She had to see him. She had to know what he wanted. As midnight approached, Amanda slipped out of her room and made her way to the garden. The air was cool and still, the only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves. As she walked deeper into the garden, she saw Keith standing in the shadows, his face obscured by the darkness. He stepped forward, and moonlight cascaded across his face. He looked both dangerous and beautiful, his eyes filled with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability.