0713

Silence. It was the first thing Luna noticed. Not the peaceful silence that wrapped around the world before sunrise, but a suffocating one—thick enough to steal the air from her lungs. She stood barefoot in the middle of a corridor that stretched farther than her eyes could see. The polished marble beneath her feet reflected the flickering glow of candlelight, yet there were no candles. Towering portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes following her every step. She had never seen this place before. At least... she didn't think she had. "Luna." The voice floated through the corridor like a whisper carried by the wind. A woman stood at the far end, dressed in a long black gown that brushed the floor. Her dark curls framed her face, but no matter how hard Luna stared, she couldn't make out her features. It was as if the shadows refused to let her see. "Who are you?" Luna called. No answer. Instead, the woman lifted a trembling hand. Resting in her palm was an old silver pocket watch. Its glass was cracked, and its hands had stopped moving. 07:13. The number made Luna's chest tighten. It was familiar. Painfully familiar. "Remember it," the woman whispered. "When the truth comes... do not trust—" A deafening gunshot echoed through the corridor. The woman gasped. Dark crimson spread across her dress. The pocket watch slipped from her fingers and struck the marble floor with a sharp metallic clang. Once. Twice. Three times. Suddenly, flames burst from every corner of the hallway. Portraits blackened. Curtains caught fire. The marble floor cracked beneath Luna's feet. Screams filled the air. Somewhere in the flames, someone cried her name. "Luna... run..." A hand grabbed her wrist. Ice cold. She spun around— And woke with a scream. --- Luna sat upright in bed, her heart pounding so violently she could hear it echo in her ears. Morning sunlight spilled through the enormous windows, bathing her room in soft gold. She pressed a trembling hand against her chest. The dream. Again. It had haunted her for years. Always the same hallway. Always the same woman. Always the same number. 0713. She whispered it under her breath. "Zero... seven... one... three." The number meant nothing. Or perhaps it meant everything. She just hadn't figured it out yet. Drawing in a shaky breath, Luna pushed the silk duvet aside and walked toward the window. From the third floor of the Calipps estate, she could see nearly the entire town below. Tiny houses sat beneath the shadow of the enormous mansion. People were already filling the streets. Shopkeepers opened their stores. Children hurried to school. Workers pulled carts through the market. Everything looked ordinary. Yet Luna knew better. The moment a black Calipps vehicle entered town... The laughter would disappear. Heads would bow. Eyes would drop to the ground. Fear followed her family like a second shadow. She never understood why. As a little girl, she'd believed everyone admired them. Now she wasn't so sure. A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts. "Miss Luna?" The familiar voice belonged to Clara, the housemaid who had cared for her since childhood. "You may come in." The door opened carefully. Clara stepped inside with perfectly folded clothes draped over one arm. "Your father has requested that the family gather for breakfast." Luna offered a faint smile. "When hasn't he?" Clara laughed softly before helping her lay the outfit across the bed. It was beautiful. A cream-colored dress embroidered with delicate gold thread. Elegant. Expensive. Perfect. Luna hated it. "I'll wear something else," she said quietly. Clara hesitated. "Your father chose this himself." Of course he did. He always chose. What she wore. Where she went. Who she spoke to. Even the books she was allowed to read. Not because he was cruel... Because he believed the Calipps name demanded perfection. "Very well," Luna murmured, picking up the dress anyway. Once Clara left, Luna stood before the full-length mirror. For a long moment, she simply stared. Dark curls spilled over her shoulders. Warm brown skin glowed beneath the morning light. Deep hazel eyes stared back at her. She looked... Nothing like the rest of her family. Every one of her siblings had porcelain skin, silver-blond hair, and icy blue eyes. People often said they looked like statues carved from snow. Luna looked like sunlight. As a child, she'd once asked her father if she had been adopted. He had laughed before pulling her into his arms. "You are my daughter," he'd said. "Never question that." She had believed him. Mostly. Yet sometimes, standing beside her siblings, she couldn't ignore the whisper that echoed inside her mind. Why am I different? She fastened the final button of her dress and took one last glance at the mirror. Forcing a smile she didn't feel, Luna opened her bedroom door. The hallway outside was impossibly quiet. Servants moved with careful steps. No one spoke above a whisper. The mansion was awake. Yet it never truly felt alive. As Luna descended the grand staircase, an enormous portrait caught her attention. It was the founder of the Calipps family. His painted eyes seemed to follow her. Cold. Judging. Watching. For reasons she couldn't explain, a chill crept down her spine. Without thinking, she glanced back toward the corridor she'd just left. For the briefest moment... She could have sworn she heard the faint sound of a pocket watch ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick. Luna froze. Then, just as suddenly as it began... The sound disappeared. She swallowed hard and continued toward the dining hall, unaware that before the day was over, a single conversation at breakfast would plant the first seed of a truth that had been buried for generations.