Cassandra "Cassie" always thought she was just an ordinary girl-a quiet orphan raised far from the memories of her childhood. But everything changes the moment she returns to her hometown, to her grandmother's secluded house that seems frozen in tim...
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Sunlight slipped in through the cracks of the curtains, brushing against Cassie's still-pale cheek. She stirred slightly, but even the smallest movement was enough to make her wince-her chin throbbed painfully, a vivid reminder of the chaotic day before.
When she opened her eyes, her gaze landed on the dried crimson stain on the sheets. Her blood. Her breath caught, and she shut her eyes again, willing it all to be a nightmare. But the ache in her body told a different story. And somewhere between the rush of breath and the erratic beat of her heart, the dream came back to her-dark woods, crumbling stone, and a voice... a voice that seemed to call from deep within her soul.
It still echoed faintly, alluring yet distant. "Cassie..." She sat up abruptly, as if remembering something. Her fingers went to the pendant-her mother's-still hanging around her neck. She opened it and glanced at the painting she had made the day before. The faint symbol in her artwork matched exactly the one carved into the back of her mother's locket.
Downstairs, the scent of herbal tea and toasted bread drifted through the air. Caleb sat on an old chair in the corner of the kitchen, his back tense despite the calm in his posture. His eyes stayed fixed on the staircase-waiting for the sound of Cassie's footsteps, or any sign that she was awake.
Agatha, who had returned just before dawn, poured tea into two cups. Her eyes met Caleb's before she spoke in a lowered voice. "The wound's deeper than it looks," she murmured. "And not just on her chin."
Caleb's jaw clenched. "I couldn't protect her. That shouldn't have happened." His voice was low, almost a restrained growl.
"She's starting to dig," Agatha added. "And you know, sooner or later, she'll learn everything."
Caleb lowered his gaze, haunted by memories of the night before-blood, fury, and the way Cassie had looked at him with eyes full of fear and confusion. His fingers trembled slightly as he gripped his cup. "I won't let them touch her," he whispered.
Upstairs, quiet footsteps echoed. Caleb immediately stood. His eyes locked on the stairs, as if he could see through the wooden floor and into Cassie's uncertainty. He knew today would bring more wounds-not on her body, but truths that cut far deeper.
Cassie's steps were steady as she descended the stairs, though her chin throbbed sharply with each movement. She had changed clothes and brushed her hair, trying to appear like she was fine. As if the night of blood and shadows had just been a bad dream better left unspoken.
Caleb stood as soon as he saw her but didn't move closer. His gaze followed her as she quietly pulled out a chair and sat at the table. Agatha was gone-either out in the fields or giving them space on purpose.
"You should still be in bed," he said softly, his voice laced with concern.
Cassie glanced at him and managed a faint smile. "I needed tea. And... air."
