Betrothed to My Mother’s Killer

Buried Secrets

I wasn’t supposed to find it.

The time capsule had been buried at the base of the old oak tree, pressed deep beneath twisted roots and years of hardened earth, like the ground itself had tried to swallow it whole.

Hide it.

Forget it.

Let it rot.

But my mother had left it for me.

And standing over the open metal box, dirt still packed into my palms, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just done something irreversible.

Katie shifted beside me, brushing soil from her jeans as she leaned in. “You’re sure this is it?”

I didn’t answer right away.

Because I knew.

The map in my mother’s letter hadn’t just led me here. It had guided me. Step by step. Tree by tree. Too precise to be chance.

Like she had planned this. Like she had needed me to find it.

“I’m sure,” I said, softer than I meant to.

The words seemed to disappear the moment they left my mouth.

The forest had gone still.

Not quiet. Not peaceful.

Still.

Like everything around us was holding its breath.

Watching.

Katie leaned closer to the box. “So… what are we looking for?”

“I don’t know.”

And that was the worst part.

I had expected something clearer. Something that made sense.

Not this.

Loose papers, worn at the edges. Old documents stacked without order. A folded contract sitting beneath them like it had been placed there last, deliberate.

Waiting.

And a birth certificate that didn’t belong to this world.

My fingers hovered over it.

For a moment, I didn’t move.

Something in my chest tightened, low and instinctive, like my body already knew this was the moment everything shifted.

Then I picked it up anyway.

The paper was too thick. Too smooth. It carried weight in a way that had nothing to do with size.

Official. Important. Wrong.

I unfolded it slowly, the edges dragging against my fingertips.

And read.

Species: Hybrid.

The word didn’t land at first.

It just sat there.

Meaningless.

Until it wasn’t.

My breath caught hard enough to sting, my chest tightening as I blinked and read it again, willing it to change.

It didn’t.

Half vampire.

A quiet, unsteady laugh slipped out of me, thin and wrong in the heavy air.

“No,” I whispered.

Katie turned sharply. “Ruby?”

“That’s not real,” I said, shaking my head, but the motion felt off, unsteady. “That’s not, this is…”

My voice faded.

Because my hands were shaking now.

Because something cold had settled under my ribs, spreading slow and certain.

Because part of me already knew.

This wasn’t fake.

I had grown up normal.

Normal house. Normal parents. Normal life.

I wasn’t…

My gaze dropped before I could finish the thought.

To the next paper.

The contract.

Older than the rest. The edges worn soft with time, the ink dark and heavy where it had soaked into the page, thick enough to almost look like blood.

Katie leaned closer, her shoulder brushing mine. “What does it say?”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

My name was written across the top in sharp, deliberate strokes.

Not printed.

Written.

Like someone had taken their time with it.

And beneath it, another name.

Betrothed: Eric Birgir

Something in my chest pulled tight.

The world tilted.

Slow. Uneven. Wrong.

Katie said something, her voice distant, muffled, like I was hearing her from underwater.

My grip tightened on the page, the paper crumpling slightly beneath my fingers as my breathing turned shallow, uneven, like there wasn’t enough air left in the forest.

Eric Birgir.

The name hit harder this time.

Not just words.

A memory.

Blood.

My mother’s voice.

The sound of something breaking that could never be put back together.

My stomach dropped, a hollow feeling opening beneath my ribs as the pieces tried to fit together in ways I didn’t want them to.

The man who murdered my mother.

The man I was supposed to trust.

My pulse thudded unevenly, something deeper pulling tight inside me, something I couldn’t explain, couldn’t control.

Like the name meant more than it should.

Like it belonged to me in a way that made my skin feel too tight.

And then the final piece settled into place.

Cold. Certain. Unavoidable.

I had just watched him die.