Jane's POV
The house loomed over me like a monument to the past—a house in which every groan of the floors and every frayed picture on the walls seemed to be a guarded secret for years. I trailed Nate into the dilapidated house on the outskirts of town, where memories hung heavy in the air and the scent of old wood filled our lungs. This was my mother's childhood home, one that had been full of laughter and unspoken love but now felt heavy with mystery and tragedy. I stepped out of the car and breathed deeply, allowing the chill of the past to close in around me. Nate went with me in silence, his omnipresent presence a comforting reminder that I wasn't by myself on this quest for the truth. I arrived at the wooden oak door and wondered what was behind this door—the past deceptions that wo
