Chapter Eleven
1124 Words
Chapter Eleven
The Forgotten Room
Genevieve's POV
The memory came without warning.
One moment I was standing inside the dark greenhouse, staring at the message in my hands. The next, I was somewhere else entirely.
I was seven years old again.
The house was dark, but I remembered the sound of rain against the windows. I remembered the smell of my father's cologne and the warmth of his hand around mine.
He was leading me down a hallway I didn't recognize.
“Daddy, where are we going?”
“Somewhere quiet.”
His voice sounded different. Not frightened exactly, but careful.
We stopped in front of a wooden door.
I looked up at him.
“What's inside?”
He crouched in front of me.
“Something very important.”
“What?”
He glanced behind us before opening the door.
I remembered stepping inside.
A small room.
A desk.
A bookshelf.
And a woman sitting beside the window.
Her face was blurred in my memory, but I remembered her eyes.
She had been crying.
“Daddy, who is she?”
My father placed a finger against his lips.
“Don't tell anyone she came here.”
The memory vanished.
I gasped.
“Genevieve?”
Damien's voice pulled me back.
I looked at him.
The greenhouse was still dark.
Elias stood near the door while Eleanor watched me with tears in her eyes.
“I remember.”
Everyone became still.
“What do you remember?” Damien asked.
I looked at Eleanor.
“The woman.”
Her face went pale.
“You remember her?”
I nodded slowly.
“My father brought me to a room. There was a woman there.”
Eleanor covered her mouth.
Damien stepped closer.
“What woman?”
“I don't know her name.”
“Do you remember what she looked like?”
“Not clearly.”
I closed my eyes.
“She had dark hair. She was crying.”
Eleanor whispered something I couldn't understand.
“What?”
She shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“No. You know her.”
Eleanor looked toward Damien.
Then back at me.
“She was important to your father.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear I don't know.”
The anger inside me grew.
“Everyone knows something except me.”
Damien reached for my shoulder.
I moved away.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
“I need answers.”
“You will get them.”
“When?”
“When we know what we're dealing with.”
“I've waited four years.”
My voice cracked.
“I can't wait anymore.”
The greenhouse door suddenly rattled.
Everyone turned.
Elias moved in front of Eleanor.
Damien pulled me behind him.
The handle moved again.
Then stopped.
Silence.
Elias approached cautiously.
He opened the door.
Nobody was there.
Only the cold night air.
And something lying on the ground.
A small wooden box.
Damien stepped outside and picked it up.
He brought it inside and placed it on the table.
There was no lock.
No writing.
Just the same lighthouse symbol we'd seen before.
My heart began racing.
“Open it,” I said.
Damien looked at me.
“Maybe we shouldn't.”
“Why?”
“Because everything we've opened tonight has led to another problem.”
“Then let's see what this one brings.”
He opened the box.
Inside was a key.
A photograph.
And a folded piece of paper.
I picked up the photograph first.
My breath caught.
It was my father.
But he wasn't alone.
The woman from my memory stood beside him.
I stared at her face.
Something about it felt painfully familiar.
“That's her.”
Eleanor stepped closer.
Her hands began trembling.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was in the box.”
She looked at Damien.
“Don't open the note.”
My eyes moved to her.
“Why?”
“Because your father told me never to let you see it.”
My fingers froze.
“Then that's exactly why I'm going to read it.”
I unfolded the paper.
There were only a few lines.
Genevieve, if you are reading this, then they have found you. I need you to remember one thing. The woman in this photograph is not your enemy. She is the reason you are alive.
I stared at the words.
My hands began shaking.
There was more.
Trust no one who tells you the truth is buried at Blackwater. The truth is closer than you think.
I looked at Damien.
He was staring at the note.
“What does that mean?”
He didn't answer.
I looked at the photograph again.
The woman.
My father.
The hidden room.
The warning.
Then I noticed something I'd missed before.
The woman was wearing a necklace.
A small silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon.
I knew that necklace.
I'd seen it before.
Not in a photograph.
Not in a memory.
On someone.
I slowly looked at Eleanor.
Her hand moved instinctively to her neck.
The same crescent pendant hung beneath her collar.
My heart stopped.
“Eleanor…”
She looked at me.
“You were the woman in the room.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
The word barely left her lips.
“I was.”
Silence filled the greenhouse.
I stared at her, unable to process it.
“You knew my father.”
“I did.”
“You were there before he died.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew about the hidden room.”
“Yes.”
I felt betrayed.
“You lied to me.”
“I was protecting you.”
“Everyone says that!”
My voice echoed through the greenhouse.
Damien stepped closer, but I raised my hand.
“No.”
I looked at Eleanor.
“Tell me everything.”
She lowered her head.
“I will.”
“Now.”
She slowly nodded.
Then she looked toward Damien.
“There is something you need to know about your father too.”
Damien's expression hardened.
“What?”
Eleanor took a shaky breath.
“Julian Moreau didn't discover the secret at Blackwater.”
She looked at me.
“He discovered it in the Devereaux family.”
Damien went completely still.
Eleanor continued.
“And your father wasn't trying to stop him.”
She swallowed.
“He was helping him.”
The room fell silent.
For the first time, I realized the story we'd been chasing might be completely different from what either of us had believed.
And somewhere outside the greenhouse, hidden in the darkness, someone was listening.
Waiting.
Watching.
For us to discover the truth.
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