CHAPTER 7
831 Words
The sound of the door downstairs made my whole body freeze.
Nobody moved.
Nobody even breathed.
Okay, maybe I was the only one breathing like I had just run a marathon.
“Please tell me that was the wind,” I whispered.
Adrian looked at me.
“Inside a locked house?”
I frowned. “I said please.”
He almost smiled.
Roman was already walking toward the door.
“Stay here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Again with the stay-here thing.”
“Elena.”
“What? I'm tired of being the person everyone tells to hide.”
Roman stopped and looked at me.
For a second, neither of us said anything.
Then Nikolai walked past us.
“She's coming.”
Roman looked annoyed.
Adrian grinned. “Finally, someone with sense.”
I followed them downstairs.
The house was strangely quiet.
Too quiet.
Roman held up his hand, telling us to stop.
I stopped so quickly I nearly crashed into Adrian.
He caught my arm.
“Careful.”
“I’m fine.”
“You almost broke my nose.”
“Sorry.”
“You're not.”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Fair enough.”
Roman slowly moved toward the living room.
The door was open.
He pushed it wider.
Empty.
Adrian looked around.
“Maybe whoever came in left.”
Nikolai shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed at the floor.
A single drop of blood sat on the marble.
My stomach turned.
“Is that...?”
“Blood,” Nikolai said.
“Great,” I whispered. “Exactly what I wanted to see before breakfast.”
Roman looked at me.
“You're not funny.”
“I know. I'm terrified.”
We followed the drops down the hallway.
They stopped at a door.
Roman opened it.
Nothing.
Just darkness.
Then the lights suddenly came on.
I screamed.
Adrian jumped.
Nikolai didn't even blink.
Roman looked at me.
“You screamed.”
“I know!”
Adrian laughed.
“I thought Roman was supposed to be the scary one.”
“I hate all three of you,” I muttered.
Then I noticed something on the desk.
A small envelope.
My name was written across it.
ELENA.
My hands went cold.
I reached for it.
Roman grabbed my wrist.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever left it wants you to open it.”
I stared at him.
“That's usually how envelopes work.”
Adrian snorted.
Roman gave him a look.
“Sorry.”
I pulled my hand away.
“I’m opening it.”
Inside was a photograph.
I looked at it.
My heart dropped.
It was my father.
But he looked different.
Older.
His hair was darker.
His face wasn't the face I remembered.
And he was standing beside a little girl.
Me.
I stared at the picture for several seconds.
“Where was this taken?”
Nikolai took the photograph carefully.
“Look at the date.”
I checked.
Seven years ago.
The day everyone believed my father died.
My fingers started shaking.
“That’s impossible.”
Roman's face changed.
“What's wrong?”
I pointed at the picture.
“This was taken on the night my father supposedly died.”
Nobody spoke.
Then I noticed something behind us in the photograph.
A man.
Standing in the distance.
Watching.
I zoomed in with my phone.
My heart stopped.
The man looked familiar.
Very familiar.
“Roman.”
He looked at me.
“That's Victor.”
“No.”
I pointed at the man.
“Look carefully.”
Roman stared at the picture.
His face went pale.
Adrian moved closer.
“What?”
Roman didn't answer.
Nikolai took the photograph.
He looked at it for a long moment.
Then he whispered, “That's not Victor.”
I frowned.
“Then who is it?”
Nikolai looked directly at me.
“His surgeon.”
My mouth fell open.
“What?”
Roman took the picture again.
“Victor didn't just change his face.”
I stared at him.
“What are you saying?”
“He changed more than his appearance.”
A noise suddenly came from behind us.
We all turned.
The door slammed shut.
I rushed toward it.
Locked.
“Roman!”
He tried the handle.
Nothing.
Adrian pulled his gun.
“Everybody move back.”
Then a voice came from the speaker above us.
My father's voice.
“Elena.”
I froze.
“Dad?”
His voice continued.
“You wanted the truth.”
The lights went off.
“You're about to get it.”
A screen on the wall suddenly came alive.
Victor appeared.
But this time, he wasn't alone.
A man stood beside him.
The same man from the photograph.
Victor looked straight into the camera.
Then he smiled.
“I think it's time you met the man who gave me my new face.”
The screen went black.
And someone knocked three times on the door behind us.
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