LENA’S POV
I wake up smiling stupidly, at the new book on my nightstand again.
No note. No name.
Just him. Or the ghost of this mansion that keeps leaving books.
Either way, I’ll take it.
These books are the only thing I look forward to now.
A knock.
Maria comes in with the vacuum.
She doesn’t speak. Not yet. She never does.
I open the book anyway. Yellow highlights on page one. His handwriting in the margin.
“He doesn’t want revenge. He wants to be remembered.”
What does he mean by that?
My chest tightens.
“Morning,” I say, without looking up.
The vacuum stops.
I glance over. Maria’s watching me.
“You look... lighter,” she says.
It’s the first real sentence she’s given me in days.
I set the book down and observe her wondering if I should speak or not.
“M
