[Emma's POV]
The silence in the wake of Damon’s psychic bombardment was not peaceful; it was the fragile, ringing quiet after a detonation, where the ears strain and every nerve remains taut, waiting for the next blast. While the others hurried to replace shattered bulbs and reinforce the physical shell of the manor, Cain’s mind, a repository of forgotten lore and dark suspicions, turned away from the perimeter and focused inward. The question wasn't how Damon had reached in, but why the house had been so receptive.
Haunted by a theory too terrible to voice, he returned to my room. On his knees beside the bed, his sensitive fingers traced the seams of the ancient floorboards until he found one that sat just a fraction too high, its groans underfoot a subtle rebuke. With a muttered incant
