Chapter 1
861 Words
COMING HOME
Six years later, I still remembered the sound of the front door closing behind me.
I had been eighteen.
Young enough to believe leaving would solve everything.
Old enough to understand that staying would destroy me.
Now, at twenty-four, I stood in front of the same house with a suitcase beside me.
Marlowe Estate hadn’t changed.
I had.
The massive iron gates opened slowly as my car approached.
Beyond them stood the mansion.
Stone walls.
Tall windows.
Black shutters.
Dead roses climbing the sides.
The place looked exactly like I remembered.
Beautiful.
Cold.
And completely f*****g terrifying.
I turned off the engine.
For several seconds, I didn’t move.
“Just get through the funeral,” I whispered to myself. “Then leave.”
That was the plan.
Simple.
Clean.
No drama.
No family arguments.
No digging into the past.
No staying longer than necessary.
I opened the car door.
The moment my shoes touched the gravel, the front door opened.
My sister stepped outside.
Victoria.
She looked exactly like the woman I remembered.
Perfect hair.
Perfect makeup.
Perfect black dress.
Perfect smile.
Except her eyes.
Her eyes were different.
She walked toward me.
“Elena.”
I forced myself to smile.
“Victoria.”
She stopped a few feet away.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she said quietly, “You actually came.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Someone had to.”
Her smile disappeared.
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither was the phone call telling me Dad was dead.”
Her jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Elena—”
“I’ve been gone for six years, Victoria.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t pretend you know how this feels.”
She looked away.
Rain began falling softly.
Victoria sighed.
“You should come inside.”
I grabbed my suitcase.
“I’ll stay for the funeral.”
“You’re staying here.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“Mother wants you here.”
“I don’t care what Mom wants.”
“Elena.”
“What?”
Victoria stepped closer.
“Please.”
That word surprised me.
Victoria never said please.
I looked at her.
She looked exhausted.
Not sad.
Not angry.
Scared.
And that scared me more than anything.
“What happened?” I asked.
She swallowed.
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
“Inside.”
I followed her toward the house.
The moment I stepped through the doorway, memories came rushing back.
The staircase.
The portraits.
The chandelier.
The smell of old wood and expensive perfume.
Everything looked the same.
But something felt different.
I couldn’t explain it.
I looked at Victoria.
“Where’s Mom?”
“In the study.”
I stopped walking.
“The study?”
Victoria nodded.
“She hasn’t left it since Dad died.”
My stomach tightened.
I remembered the last time I’d been inside that room.
The blood.
The note.
The empty hallway.
And the mysterious man.
I forced myself to keep walking.
We reached the study door.
Victoria placed her hand on the handle.
Before she could open it, I heard a man’s voice from inside.
“She shouldn’t be here.”
I froze.
Victoria looked at me.
I whispered, “Who is that?”
She didn’t answer.
The door opened.
And there he was.
The man from my memory.
Older than I remembered.
Colder than I remembered.
But those gray eyes were unmistakable.
My heart began pounding.
He stared at me.
I stared back.
Six years disappeared in an instant.
I remembered the rain.
My father’s blood.
The missing note.
The words he’d spoken.
I’m sorry.
I stepped backward.
“No.”
The man said nothing.
Victoria looked between us.
“You two know each other?”
I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
“You.”
His expression remained unreadable.
“Hello, Elena.”
My hands curled into fists.
“You were there.”
He slowly nodded.
“Yes.”
“At my father’s death.”
Another nod.
“What the hell were you doing there?”
Victoria looked horrified.
“Elena—”
“No.”
I stepped toward him.
“What were you doing there?”
His jaw tightened.
“I was trying to save him.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Save him?”
“Yes.”
“Then why was he dead?”
Silence.
I pointed toward the door.
“Get out.”
His eyes hardened.
“This is not your house.”
I stepped closer.
“It was my father’s house.”
“And he’s dead.”
The words hit me like a slap.
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Then he quietly said:
“And if you keep asking questions, Elena…”
He paused.
His eyes darkened.
“…you might be joining him.”
The room went silent.
Victoria whispered my name.
But I couldn’t move.
Because suddenly I understood something.
The man standing in front of me wasn’t afraid of my family.
He wasn’t afraid of me.
And he definitely wasn’t afraid of the truth.
He was afraid of what would happen…
if I discovered it.
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