Alex
I didn’t throw the note away. I thought about it, about tearing it up, burning it, pretending it never existed. But something about the handwriting, the calm way it said “Rhett is out of bounds”, made it feel almost sacred. Or cursed. So I folded it and slipped it into a book on my nightstand. Between two blank pages, where secrets go to breathe.
Every sound in the mansion felt louder since then. It felt like I was waiting for something to break. The suspense made it worse. I hadn't told anyone about it and that worsened every sound I heard. The creak of the old staircase. The hum of tires on gravel. Even the ticking of the kitchen clock sounded suspicious. My nerves had decided to host a concert and forgot to invite my sanity.
By breakfast, I’d convinced myself to act normal. That
