A Stranger Under Her Roof
1172 Words
Sunlight streamed through the curtains, warming the room just enough to wake Ethan from a deep sleep. For a moment, he lay still, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above him.
Where am I?
His eyes wandered around the room. The neatly arranged furniture, the expensive paintings on the walls, the scent of fresh linen—it all felt so... unreal.
Then it came back to him.
The rain.
The men who had attacked him.
Victoria.
He let out a slow breath and sat up, running a hand through his messy hair.
"So, I wasn't dreaming after all."
A knock sounded on the door.
"Come in," he called.
The door opened, and a woman in her late fifties stepped inside carrying a tray.
"Good morning," she said with a warm smile. "I hope you slept well."
"I did, thank you."
"I'm Grace, the housekeeper."
"It's nice to meet you."
Grace placed the tray on a nearby table. On it sat a steaming cup of coffee, a glass of orange juice, and a plate of buttered toast.
"I also brought you some clothes. Miss Victoria thought you might feel more comfortable wearing something clean."
Ethan glanced at the folded clothes resting on the chair.
"Please thank her for me."
Grace smiled knowingly.
"I think she'd rather you thanked her yourself."
Before leaving, she paused at the door.
"Oh, and breakfast is downstairs whenever you're ready."
The room fell quiet again.
Ethan picked up the coffee and walked over to the large window.
The estate stretched farther than he could see. Beautiful gardens surrounded the mansion, with a long stone pathway leading toward rows of cherry blossom trees swaying gently in the morning breeze.
The sight stirred something inside him.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
"Why does this place feel familiar?"
He couldn't explain it.
Victoria had already been awake for nearly three hours.
She sat in her home office, dressed in a fitted cream blouse and black trousers, her laptop open as emails continued flooding her inbox.
She rubbed her temples.
Another dream.
Exactly the same.
She had seen Ethan again.
Only this time, they weren't talking.
They were standing beneath cherry blossom trees while the wind carried pink petals around them.
He'd reached out his hand.
"So close," he'd whispered.
Then she'd woken up.
Victoria sighed in frustration.
"Get a grip, Victoria. He's just a man."
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in."
Grace entered carrying a fresh cup of coffee.
"You've hardly touched the first one."
"I forgot."
Grace placed the new cup beside her.
"You also forgot to eat dinner."
"I'm busy."
"You always say that."
Victoria looked up.
"Grace..."
"No."
Grace folded her arms.
"You've been living on coffee and stress for years."
"I run a company."
"And you're still human."
Victoria couldn't help smiling a little.
Grace had worked for the Harrington family for over thirty years. She was one of the very few people who could speak to Victoria without worrying about losing her job.
"He'll be downstairs soon," Grace said.
Victoria raised an eyebrow.
"Who?"
Grace gave her an amused look.
"The man you brought home."
Victoria immediately looked back at her laptop.
"I didn't bring him home."
"You offered him a place to stay."
"Temporarily."
Grace smiled.
"If you say so."
After Grace left, Victoria closed her laptop.
"Why does everyone keep making such a big deal out of this?"
She had simply helped someone.
Nothing more.
At least, that's what she kept telling herself.
The dining room was surprisingly quiet.
Ethan hesitated before stepping inside.
Victoria was already seated at the table, reading through several documents while eating what looked like plain toast.
She didn't even glance up.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Ethan took a seat across from her.
Neither of them spoke for a few moments.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"Do you always work this early?"
"I've already answered forty-seven emails."
"It's not even eight."
"It is somewhere."
He laughed.
She looked up.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You smiled."
"I did."
"You seem to do that a lot."
"It's better than frowning."
Victoria narrowed her eyes.
"Are you saying I frown?"
"I'm saying you look like you're about to fire someone."
"I usually am."
Ethan couldn't help laughing again.
For a split second, Victoria almost smiled.
Almost.
Grace walked into the room carrying breakfast.
"Pancakes, eggs, fruit and tea."
She placed everything in front of Ethan before turning toward Victoria.
"And yours."
Victoria glanced at the plate.
"I only asked for coffee."
"I know."
"I'm not hungry."
"You never are."
Grace set the plate down anyway.
"If you don't eat it, I'll tell Liam."
Victoria looked horrified.
"You wouldn't."
"Oh, I would."
Ethan watched the exchange with amusement.
"So..." he said.
"Grace scares you?"
Victoria sighed dramatically.
"More than my board of directors."
Grace laughed as she walked away.
"So," Ethan said between bites of breakfast, "what exactly will I be doing here?"
"You'll help maintain the estate until you've recovered."
"And after that?"
"We'll see."
"You don't like making long-term plans?"
"I do."
"Then why 'we'll see'?"
Victoria looked at him.
"Because I don't know you."
The words hung in the air.
She immediately regretted how harsh they sounded.
"Nice going, Victoria."
Ethan simply nodded.
"Fair enough."
There was no anger in his voice.
Just understanding.
Oddly enough, that made her feel worse.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
The apology surprised both of them.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"It's okay."
"No... it isn't."
She took a sip of coffee.
"I have trust issues."
"You don't have to explain."
"I wasn't trying to."
A small smile appeared on Ethan's face.
"There it is again."
"What?"
"The sarcasm."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do."
For the first time in a long time, breakfast didn't feel like another meeting.
It felt... normal.
Later that morning, Victoria left for Harrington Global.
As her car disappeared through the estate gates, Ethan wandered into the gardens.
Rows of cherry blossom trees danced gently in the breeze.
Without thinking, he walked toward the largest tree.
His footsteps slowed.
"I've been here before..."
His heart began beating faster.
He reached out and placed his hand against the rough bark.
Suddenly—
A sharp pain shot through his head.
Flashes.
A little girl laughing.
Someone calling his name.
A silver pocket watch swinging from a chain.
Blood.
Rain.
A voice whispered,
"Find her."
Ethan stumbled backwards, breathing heavily.
"What... was that?"
The memory disappeared before he could make sense of it.
From the balcony above, hidden behind the curtains, Mr. Collins watched everything.
His face had gone pale.
"It really is happening," he whispered.
"The dreams have begun again."
He reached into his pocket and unfolded an old newspaper clipping that he had carried for twenty-five years.
Across the front page was a faded photograph.
The headline read:
LOCAL BOY PRESUMED DEAD AFTER ESTATE FIRE!!!
Mr. Collins looked from the newspaper to Ethan.
His hands trembled.
"No one can ever find out the truth."
Not yet.
- Writer
