ECHOES BENEATH THE SURFACE
1148 Words
The gentle morning light seeped through the lace curtains, creating subtle shadows on the marble floors. Scarlett perched on the side of her bed, grasping the enigmatic note she had written from her phone the night before. You thought the past was concealed. It's about to pull itself out.
The phrases repeated endlessly in her thoughts.
Who was the sender? What were they aware of? The message was not only foreboding—it was intimate. Close. It referred to a history she had hidden, one she hoped no one in this home would ever reveal.
Her heart beat faster while she stood, moving about the room. Each footfall seemed to resonate more than the previous one. She required fresh air—room to contemplate.
As she went down the stairs, she walked by several housemaids, each occupied with their tasks. They hardly took notice of her, which was precisely how she liked it. However, as she neared the courtyard, a voice called out to her.
"Scarlett."
She pivoted and encountered Ryan directly. His hands rested in his pockets, yet his eyes—those assessing eyes—were locked onto her.
"Good morning," she said, masking the unease she truly felt.
Ryan bent his head. "You've been somewhat... anxious lately." “Is something the matter?”
She offered a slight smile. “Simply exhausted.” “Many things have been occurring.”
He nodded in contemplation. "That makes sense." Particularly now that Damien has come back. “Doesn’t he bring a fresh vibe to the home?”
Scarlett examined him, questioning whether he was withholding information. "Indeed, it does."
Ryan moved nearer, his voice becoming quieter. “Exercise caution around Damien.”
Scarlett opened and closed her eyes. “What did you say?”
He leaned closer, his breath gently touching her ear. "He's not the person he once was." “And he definitely doesn’t overlook it.”
Before she had a chance to reply, Ryan turned and departed, leaving her paralyzed with discomfort.
What was he implying?
***********************************************
Later that day, Scarlett withdrew to the library—one of the rare spots where she felt comfortable in the mansion. The tall shelves and the stale aroma of old paper provided her with solace. She ran her fingers over the spines, her thoughts still spinning from Ryan's caution.
Next, nestled between two ancient history books, something drew her attention. A pouch made of velvet.
Intrigued, she extracted it and unfolded it—and almost dropped it in disbelief.
Her wedding ring.
The one she had promised she misplaced.
Her breath caught. It was not feasible. How had it arrived at this location, of all places?
She gripped it firmly in her hand, heart raging in her chest. If someone discovered it and put it here on purpose, it indicated they were observing her. Tightly.
"Searching for something?"
Scarlett leaped, twirling around. Damien positioned himself at the library's entrance, arms crossed over his chest.
She tightened her hold on the ring. "Negative." "Simply passing away time."
Damien moved forward gradually. "It's peculiar how items that disappear can occasionally reappear in the most unusual manners, wouldn't you agree?"
Her eyes quickly moved to his face. He did not smile.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she remarked, placing the pouch into her pocket.
He approached her, halting just a few feet distance. "You've been steering clear of me, Scarlett."
She stayed motionless. "That isn't correct."
“Indeed, it is.” And you feel afraid. Of anything. Perhaps of me. He leaned in and softly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes exploring hers. "Why is that?"
Scarlett gulped nervously. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
"You certainly do." His tone lowered. "An event took place that evening." Something genuine. And since I returned, I’ve noticed it in your eyes. "You’re concealing yourself."
Scarlett withdrew, her voice quivering. “You're not grasping it.” It happened one evening. "That's everything."
Damien stayed still. "Do you believe I could overlook you?" What now? "That I wouldn’t identify you the moment I entered?"
Her breath became stuck. Her exterior was deteriorating.
“Please don’t do this,” she murmured.
However, Damien had more to say. He retrieved his phone and pressed on the display. "Perhaps you can clarify this."
He rotated the screen in her direction.
It was a video—blurry, low quality—but undeniably her. Departing the hotel the following morning after that evening. Isolated. Confused.
Scarlett's knees gave way. She held onto a nearby table for stability.
Damien spoke in a soft tone. "An anonymous person sent it to me a few days prior to my return." No communication. No background information. Only this.
Her thoughts were swirling. Who recorded it? Who was the sender?
And why at this moment?
“I didn’t intend for it to occur,” she remarked, her voice faint. "It was not intended."
Damien’s expression relaxed just a little. "Then assist me in comprehending." "What are you escaping, Scarlett?"
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, but just as she was about to speak, the library door creaked open once more.
Edward.
His gaze fell on both of them, staying longer on their close nearness.
"What is happening here?" he inquired icily.
Scarlett instinctively took a step back, tucking the ring further into her coat pocket. Damien's face instantly closed off, hiding behind a serene facade.
"Merely a chat," Damien replied effortlessly. “Concerning ancient texts.”
Edward's eyes squinted, yet he remained silent.
Scarlett sensed his doubt heavily in the atmosphere.
“Scarlett,” Edward finally remarked, his voice rigid, “we must converse. At this moment.
She trailed behind him, taking one last look over her shoulder. Damien’s gaze remained on her—alert, torn.
Upon reaching the main corridor, Edward paused and faced her. "You're acting carelessly," he retorted. “Regardless of the history you have with Damien, I suggest you let it go.” “At once.”
Scarlett's eyes grew larger. "What are you trying to say?"
Edward leaned closer, his tone quiet and threatening. "Because if I discover that you’re deceiving me, Scarlett… you won’t appreciate the repercussions."
Her lips opened in astonishment, yet no words emerged. Edward gazed at her face for a moment more, then turned and walked off, leaving her gasping in the quiet corridor.
Her universe was coming apart.
As she rounded the corner to head back upstairs, she noticed an envelope pushed under her door.
With shaking hands, she grabbed it, tore it open, and retrieved one photograph.
It was she. Together with Damien. Within the library.
The perspective… was from within the room.
They were being observed by someone.
She turned over the picture.
Inscribed in red ink on the reverse side were four eerie words:
“You're not secure in this place.”
- Writer
