THE SECRET BEHIND HIS SECRET

The Blue Door

Chapter Four — The Blue Door

I stood at the end of the corridor staring at the faded strip of blue beneath the old wooden door.

My phone was still in my hand.

Find the blue room.

I read the message again.

Then I looked at the door.

This was no coincidence.

I slipped my phone into my pocket and walked toward it.

The corridor became quieter with every step.

Asteria Academy was enormous, but I’d never noticed this part of the school before. The newer buildings were bright and crowded, filled with students and teachers.

This section felt forgotten.

Dust covered the windowsills.

Old photographs hung crookedly on the walls.

Several doors had been sealed with notices warning students not to enter.

I stopped in front of the blue door.

There was no classroom number.

Only a small brass plate.

ARCHIVE ANNEX — RESTRICTED

I reached for the handle.

Locked.

Of course.

I looked around.

Nobody was there.

I tried the handle again.

Nothing.

Then I noticed something on the wall beside the door.

A small metal plaque had been almost completely covered by dust.

I wiped it with my sleeve.

Three initials were engraved into it.

C.E.

My heart skipped.

Cassiel Everly.

I stepped back.

Why would my father’s initials be on a restricted room at my school?

I took out my phone and photographed the plaque.

A sound suddenly came from behind me.

I spun around.

Nothing.

My heart was pounding.

“Get a grip, Aurelia.”

I turned back toward the door.

There was a narrow gap underneath it.

Light.

Someone was inside.

I froze.

The room was supposed to be restricted.

And yet there was light underneath the door.

I crouched slightly and looked through the gap.

I couldn’t see much.

Only the edge of a wooden table.

Then a shadow moved across the floor.

Someone was definitely inside.

I stood quickly.

My hand went to the door handle.

Before I could touch it, footsteps sounded from the other end of the corridor.

I turned.

Mr. Bellamy was walking toward me.

His expression changed the moment he saw where I was standing.

“Aurelia.”

I stepped away from the door.

“Sir.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for the library.”

He stared at me.

“The library is in the opposite direction.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

I didn’t answer.

His eyes moved toward the blue door.

Then back to me.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?”

“This section is closed.”

“I noticed.”

“Aurelia.”

“Why is my father’s name on the door?”

Mr. Bellamy went completely still.

That was all the confirmation I needed.

“You know what this is,” I said.

He looked away.

“I told you to forget what you saw.”

“And I told you everyone keeps saying that.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it.”

He shook his head.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I gave your father my word.”

My stomach tightened.

Another promise.

Another secret.

Everyone seemed to have made promises to my father.

I stepped closer.

“What happened seven years ago?”

Mr. Bellamy looked at me for a long moment.

Then his eyes moved toward the blue door.

“Your father came here because he was trying to protect someone.”

My heart stopped.

“Who?”

He didn’t answer.

“Who was he protecting?”

Before he could respond, the sound of a door opening came from behind us.

We both turned.

The blue door was open.

Neither of us had touched it.

A cold draft moved through the corridor.

Mr. Bellamy’s face lost all its color.

He grabbed my arm—not roughly, but urgently—and pulled me away from the doorway.

“Go.”

I stared at him.

“What?”

“Go back to the main building.”

“But—”

“Now, Aurelia.”

His voice was so serious that I obeyed.

I took several steps backward.

Then I stopped.

The blue room was still open.

Beyond the doorway was darkness.

But on the floor just inside the room was something I could clearly see.

A photograph.

I looked at Mr. Bellamy.

He noticed it too.

Neither of us moved.

Then a figure appeared inside the doorway.

Only a silhouette.

Tall.

Still.

Watching us.

Mr. Bellamy stepped in front of me.

“Run.”

I didn’t argue.

I turned and ran.

My shoes struck the stone floor as I raced toward the main building.

I didn’t stop until I reached the crowded corridor outside the senior classrooms.

Students were everywhere.

Voices surrounded me.

Normal voices.

Safe voices.

I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

Then I felt something in my hand.

I looked down.

I was holding the photograph.

I didn’t remember picking it up.

My fingers trembled as I turned it over.

There was handwriting on the back.

October 14 — Seven years ago.

Underneath it were three names.

Cassiel. Lucien. Mireille.

And beneath those names was one final sentence.

We promised she would never know.

I stared at the words.

She.

Who was she?

And what had they promised to keep from me?

My phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

I opened the message.

Now you know why your father was afraid of the blue room.

I looked back toward the corridor.

Then another message appeared.

But you still don’t know who the girl was.