Room 817
1817 Words
Mara stared at Adrian as though he had just spoken another language.
“My grandfather disappeared?”
Adrian said nothing.
Elias stepped closer.
“You knew this?”
“I knew he was missing.”
“That isn’t what you said.”
“I didn’t know how to explain it.”
Mara’s hands curled into fists.
“Then start trying.”
Adrian looked toward the rain-streaked window.
“Your grandfather disappeared three days before you were born. The official story was that he left Bellmere after an argument with your grandmother.”
“My grandmother never told me that.”
“She didn’t want you asking questions.”
“Why?”
“Because every time someone asked questions, something happened.”
Elias crossed his arms.
“What happened to your father?”
Adrian looked at him.
“He disappeared too.”
Silence.
Elias’s expression hardened.
“You’re saying my father and Mara’s grandfather disappeared around the same time?”
“Yes.”
“And my father had something to do with it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said you saw him at the lighthouse.”
“I saw him leave.”
“Then you know something.”
Adrian’s voice became quieter.
“I know enough to be afraid.”
Mara looked between them.
For years, she had imagined returning to Bellmere as a clean ending.
Instead, every answer opened another door.
She lifted the silver key.
“Take me to Room 817.”
Adrian shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I promised your grandmother.”
“You promised her a lot.”
Mara stepped closer.
“But you don’t owe her anything anymore.”
His eyes met hers.
“You’re wrong.”
There was something in his voice that stopped her.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “Your grandmother saved my life.”
Mara’s anger faltered.
“How?”
Adrian looked away.
“I’ll tell you on the way.”
⸻
The old hotel had been abandoned for years.
Its upper floors had been demolished after a fire, leaving only a skeletal shell surrounded by weeds and broken stone.
Mara followed Adrian through the darkness.
Elias walked behind them, carrying a flashlight.
“You two always this pleasant?” Elias asked.
Mara glanced back.
“Only when we’re hiding something.”
Elias smiled.
“At least you admit it.”
Adrian ignored him.
They reached what remained of the hotel’s entrance.
The doors were gone.
Inside, moonlight spilled through holes in the ceiling.
Adrian led them down a narrow staircase.
Mara stopped halfway.
“There’s a basement here?”
“There used to be.”
“Used to be?”
Adrian continued downward.
At the bottom stood a wall of old bricks.
“No door,” Mara said.
Adrian touched the wall.
“Not anymore.”
Elias examined it.
“Someone sealed it.”
“Recently?”
“Very recently.”
Mara stared at the bricks.
The silver key felt cold in her hand.
She noticed a small metal plate beside the wall.
Her pulse raced.
“This is it.”
Adrian nodded.
Elias crouched beside the plate.
“There has to be another entrance.”
Mara remembered her grandmother’s letter.
Do not trust the first person who tells you what happened.
She looked at Adrian.
“Did you know about this room?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been here before?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
Mara’s heart dropped.
“The night I left?”
“Yes.”
“What did you find?”
“Nothing.”
Elias stood.
“That’s a lie.”
Adrian turned sharply.
“You weren’t there.”
“No. But I know what you’re doing.”
“And what’s that?”
“Protecting her from the truth.”
Mara stepped between them.
“Stop.”
She hated how quickly their arguments had become personal.
She hated even more that some part of her was relieved to have them both there.
One knew her past.
The other seemed determined to uncover it.
And somehow, she trusted them both.
That frightened her most.
⸻
They searched the basement for nearly an hour.
Nothing.
Then Elias noticed a loose stone beneath an old pipe.
He pulled it free.
A narrow passage appeared behind the wall.
Mara stared.
“How did you see that?”
“I’m a photographer.”
“That explains nothing.”
“It explains that I notice things people overlook.”
Adrian sighed.
“Stay behind me.”
Elias raised an eyebrow.
“You say that often.”
“And you ignore it often.”
Mara almost smiled.
Almost.
They entered the passage.
It was barely wide enough for one person.
At the end was a wooden door.
The silver key fit the lock.
Mara hesitated.
Adrian reached for her hand.
She looked down.
His fingers were inches from hers.
He stopped.
“Your choice.”
Mara appreciated that.
She inserted the key.
The door opened.
Inside was a small room.
A desk.
A chair.
A metal filing cabinet.
And dozens of photographs pinned across the walls.
Mara stepped inside.
Her breath caught.
Every photograph was of her.
As a child.
At school.
Walking home.
Standing beside her grandmother.
And one taken only six weeks ago.
The day her grandmother died.
Mara covered her mouth.
“Someone has been watching me.”
Elias moved toward the photographs.
“Not just watching.”
He pointed at the newest one.
“Documenting.”
Adrian looked sick.
“We have to leave.”
“No.”
Mara turned.
“I’m done running.”
She walked to the desk.
There was a notebook lying open.
The handwriting was unfamiliar.
She read the first line.
Subject returned to Bellmere.
Adrian moved beside her.
“Don’t read it.”
Mara continued.
Subject appears unaware of the original arrangement.
She looked up.
“What arrangement?”
Neither man answered.
Mara flipped the page.
The next entry was dated seven years earlier.
Subject departed Bellmere at 8:17.
Escort: Adrian Cross.
Mara’s stomach twisted.
“Escort?”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“You were assigned to take me to the station.”
“By whom?”
“Your grandmother.”
“Why?”
“Because she believed someone was following you.”
Mara turned another page.
There was a final note.
Subject must never learn why she was selected.
Elias stared at the words.
“Selected for what?”
Mara felt suddenly cold.
She turned to Adrian.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying again.”
“I swear.”
Elias picked up the notebook.
“There’s a name here.”
Mara looked.
At the bottom of the page was one word.
ROWAN.
Elias froze.
“My father.”
Adrian nodded.
“Probably.”
Elias turned the page.
A photograph slipped out.
He caught it.
His face changed.
“What?”
He handed it to Mara.
It showed Jonas Rowan standing beside Mara’s grandfather.
Between them stood a little girl.
Mara.
But the date was impossible.
The photograph had been taken two years after Mara’s grandfather supposedly disappeared.
Mara stared at the image.
“My grandfather was alive.”
“Yes,” Elias whispered.
“And my grandmother knew.”
Adrian said nothing.
Mara looked at him.
“You knew this too.”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know who I could trust.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You could have trusted me.”
“I was sixteen.”
The words stopped her.
Adrian’s voice broke.
“I was sixteen, Mara. Your grandmother put you in my car and told me to get you to the station. She said people were looking for you. I didn’t understand anything.”
“What happened?”
“You wouldn’t stop crying.”
Mara’s throat tightened.
“You remember?”
“I remember everything.”
“What happened at the station?”
Adrian looked at Elias.
“Your grandmother called me.”
“And?”
“She told me not to put you on the train.”
Mara went still.
“But I left.”
“Yes.”
“Then how?”
Adrian’s face was pale.
“You left on another train.”
Mara stared.
“What?”
“The 8:17 train was never the train you were supposed to take.”
She looked at the ticket in her pocket.
The one marked 9:40.
Her fingers began trembling.
“I don’t understand.”
“You weren’t meant to leave at 8:17.”
“Then why do I remember it?”
Adrian whispered,
“Because someone made sure you would.”
A sound came from behind them.
The door slammed shut.
Mara spun around.
The room was suddenly dark.
Elias reached for her.
Adrian grabbed her other hand.
For one brief second, she stood between them.
Two hands.
Two men.
Two versions of her past.
Then something crashed against the door.
Elias pulled Mara behind him.
“Someone’s outside.”
Adrian searched for another exit.
“There has to be one.”
The room filled with smoke.
Mara coughed.
“Adrian!”
He found a small window near the ceiling.
“Elias, help me.”
Together they forced it open.
Cold air rushed inside.
Elias climbed through first.
“Give me your hand.”
Mara reached for him.
Before she could move, Adrian grabbed her wrist.
“Wait.”
He was staring at the wall.
A hidden photograph had fallen loose.
He picked it up.
His expression changed completely.
Mara looked at the photograph.
It showed her grandmother.
Jonas Rowan.
Her grandfather.
And a fourth person.
A man whose face had been scratched away.
On the back, someone had written:
One of them betrayed the others.
Mara looked at Adrian.
“Who is he?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
Elias climbed back inside.
“What happened?”
Adrian handed him the photograph.
Elias studied it.
Then looked at Mara.
“We need to get out.”
“Why?”
Elias pointed to the scratched face.
“Because I know who that is.”
Mara waited.
“Who?”
Elias swallowed.
“My father.”
Adrian shook his head.
“No.”
Elias looked at him.
“You said he disappeared.”
“I was wrong.”
“How?”
Adrian’s eyes filled with something Mara had never seen before.
Fear.
“He didn’t disappear.”
Mara’s heart pounded.
“Then where is he?”
A voice came from the other side of the door.
Old.
Calm.
And terrifyingly familiar.
“Ask your grandmother.”
Mara froze.
She knew that voice.
She had heard it once in a dream.
Or perhaps it hadn’t been a dream at all.
The door handle slowly turned.
And Adrian whispered,
“Run.”
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