CHAPTER 5
995 Words
The video ended,and the silence in the room screamed louder than anything I’d ever heard. My breath was shaky, my fingers trembling as I pulled the USB out.
Damien’s voice still echoed in my head:
"Now you're ready to know what really happened that night."
But was I really ready?
I turned around to face him, but he was no longer there, Just like that? He had disappeared again, like a shadow that only showed up when the lights dimmed. My heart was racing, torn between fear and frustration.
I needed answers. I needed to understand why my past was crawling back into my present like this. And more than anything, I needed to know why Damien, the man who kissed like a storm and held secrets in his eyes, was tangled up in it all.
The next morning, I sat on the couch, laptop still open, the screen black. I had barely slept, my thoughts racing all night.
Damien returned just before dawn, but he didn’t say a word. He dropped his keys on the table and walked straight into the bathroom .
But I followed him and a few minutes later, not ready to let it go.
"Damien, why didn’t you tell me we knew each other as kids?" My voice cracked slightly.
He looked at me through the mirror, shaving cream half on his face, eyes tired.
"It’s complicated, Celeste."
"Try me."
He wiped his face with a towel, sighing deeply and said “Some memories are better left alone."
I folded my arms. "That’s not your decision to make. This is my life too. My family. My past."
He met my gaze, his own guarded. "I’m trying to protect you."
I laughed bitterly. "From what? The truth?"
He didn’t answer. The tension was thick between us. I wanted to scream,cry or maybe kiss him just to confuse him the way he was confusing me,but instead, I left.
I needed clarity, space… maybe even closure. Damien was like a puzzle missing pieces, and I couldn’t force him to give them to me, but that afternoon, I went into one of the old boxes I had hidden in the back of the closet. Inside were a few photos, some documents and a small unopened envelope.
My hands stilled when I saw the handwriting. It was my mother’s. I hadn’t seen that script in years, but I would know it anywhere.
I opened it slowly, carefully. Inside was a single piece of paper. No greeting. No explanation. Just a single line written in her neat, flowing style:
"Search where memories are hidden."
I stared at the words for a while. What did she mean? A place? A person? My old home?.
“So, I put the note to my chest and lay back on the bed with my eyes closed and memories of my mother came rushing in like waves.
Her laughter, perfume and the way she used to hum while cooking meals in the kitchen.”
And the night she died. That one was the hardest. I had been so young, but I remembered the fight. The shouting. The way the lights flickered. And then silence.
Damien knew something. But if he wouldn’t tell me, I’d find out myself.
The next morning, I returned to the old house again, the one with cracked walls, broken fence, but this time, I was searching while walking slowly through each of the rooms, running my fingers along the peeling wallpaper and the dusty floorboards.
In my childhood bedroom, I opened the closet and stared at the back wall but something about it didn’t look right to me.
I knocked on it carefully. Hollow.
I found a small crowbar in the old toolbox and pried the panel open. Behind it was a small wooden box, wrapped in cloth. I pulled it out, heart thudding.
Inside were old photos. My mother. My father. And three children again. Me, Ethan… and Damien. I flipped one of the photos over.
Written on the back:
“Our summer at the cabin. Keep this safe, Lilah.”
Lilah. My mother.
The cabin.
That had to be what she meant. The place where memories were hidden.
I needed to find that cabin. But first, I needed to confront Damien again.
That night, when he came home, I stood by the door waiting. He paused when he saw me, setting his briefcase down slowly.
"You found something," he said. Not a question.
I held up the photo. "You were there. That summer. With us. At the cabin. Why didn’t you tell me?"
He looked at the photo, then at me. For the first time, he looked vulnerable.
"Because it’s not just your memories that live there, Celeste. It’s mine too. And they’re not all good."
"I don’t care. I need to know."
He stepped closer. "If we go back there, everything changes. Are you ready for that?"
"Yes."
His hands brushed my cheek, gently and almost hesitant. Should we leave tomorrow?”
Just as I was about to reply to him , a loud crash came from the hallway.
We both jumped..
Then Damien rushed to the door and opened it quickly.
Nothing.
But lying on the floor was another envelope.
This one wasn’t from my mother.
Damien picked it up, eyes narrowing.
He opened it slowly.
Inside was a photo.
Me—at the old house. From just this afternoon.
Someone has been watching me.
My stomach twisted.
Damien looked up at me and said, "We’re not the only ones digging into the past."
His jaw tightened with his fingers curling slightly around the envelope and he said
to me "We need to be careful", This isn’t just about the past anymore, It’s about who’s trying to keep it buried.
I nodded slowly and felt a chill running down my spine.
Who else knew what we were uncovering?
And what will they do to keep it hidden?
Tomorrow could not come fast enough.
- Writer
