The next few days passed in a blur. Our father’s anger had settled into a tense silence, a constant reminder of the line we’d crossed. He didn’t say much, but his eyes held a stern warning, one that promised retribution if we stepped out of line again.
Jason, Mason, and I spent hours going through the journal. Each page seemed to reveal more questions than answers. Faith’s mother had written about strange occurrences at the castle, odd lights in the night, whispers of ancient magic. But there was something more—a darkness hinted at in her words, something she feared but never named.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
“We need to find someone who knows about this,” Jason said one evening, his voice low as we huddled together in the attic, awa
