Chapter4
487 Words
Chapter Four: Beneath the Floorboards
Days passed like drifting fog—slow, quiet, and impossible to hold onto.
Evelyn tried to return to routine. She read to Isadora in the garden when weather allowed, helped her with embroidery, and joined her for tea in the solarium. The girl seemed brighter in Evelyn’s company, though shadows still clung to her whenever her brother entered the room.
One afternoon, Isadora’s hands trembled as she stitched.
“What is it?” Evelyn asked gently.
Isadora glanced toward the windows, where the sky was darkening again. “They always come when the rain does.”
“Who comes?”
She didn’t answer. Just shook her head and returned to her work.
That night, Evelyn was roused from sleep by a dull, rhythmic tapping.
At first, she thought it was the storm.
Then she realized it was coming from beneath her floorboards.
She swung her legs over the bed, grabbing her shawl and lantern. The light flickered as she knelt beside the hearth, pressing her ear to the old wood.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It stopped.
Evelyn’s breath caught.
Then, a soft creak behind her.
She turned.
Alaric stood in the doorway.
“Why are you in my room?” she asked, heart pounding.
“I heard something,” he said quietly. “And you shouldn’t be alone when… it starts.”
When what starts?
But before she could ask, another tap echoed beneath the floor.
His jaw tightened.
Evelyn stood. “You know what that is, don’t you?”
Alaric moved to the hearth, placed his hand on the stones. “This manor is old. It holds memories.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He turned to her, eyes stormy. “Some things are better left buried.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said.
He stepped closer. “Then you’re not as wise as I hoped.”
They stood so close now she could see the raindrops still caught in his hair. Her voice dropped. “I’m not afraid of this place.”
“No,” he murmured. “You should be afraid of me.”
She didn’t back away. “Then show me why.”
Silence.
Something flickered in his gaze—conflict, longing, torment.
Then he reached for the edge of the hearth and pressed a hand to one of the stones. With a soft click, the brick shifted, revealing a hollow space. He reached inside and pulled out a rusted iron key.
“What is that?”
“A promise I never should have made.”
Before Evelyn could speak again, he pressed the key into her hand.
“You want answers?” he said. “Then follow me. But once you do, there’s no turning back.”
Her fingers closed around the key, cold and sharp.
Something in her heart told her that tonight would change everything.
And still, she followed him.
Into the shadows.
- Writer
