Ophelia stared at the man before her wondering what she should say, her brain couldn't fathom the most believable lie at the moment,she had just been caught walking on the ladge of a window,was there a justifiable reason for that.?
Ophelia's eyes locked onto Reginald's, her mind racing. She knew she couldn't reveal the strange voice's influence. Think, Ophelia, think!
"I...I was trying to get a signal on my phone," she stammered, hoping the partial truth would suffice. "My mother's ill, and I needed to contact my brother."
Reginald's grip relaxed slightly, but his eyes remained skeptical. "You could have asked for a phone or used the landline."
Ophelia's thoughts scrambled. Why did she climb out? The voice's presence still lingered, making her skin crawl.
"I wasn't thinking," she admitted, attempting a sheepish smile. "I just needed to hear my brother's voice."
Reginald's expression softened, but his tone remained firm. "Ms. Johnson, your safety is paramount. This house has secrets, and I won't have you risking your life for a phone signal."
Ophelia nodded, still shaken. "I understand, sir. It won't happen again."
Reginald released her, stepping back into the shadows. "See that it doesn't. Now, come with me."
He led Ophelia back to her room, his silence unnerving. As they entered, he turned to her.
"Remember, discretion is key. Caitlin's warning wasn't idle chatter. You've seen nothing, heard nothing."
Ophelia nodded, her mind reeling. What secrets did the Brooks family hide? And what was Reginald's true intention?
As Reginald departed, Ophelia collapsed onto her bed, her heart still racing. The voice's influence lingered, leaving her with more questions than answers.
Ophelia mind flashed to years ago She saw her younger self walk out of her room.
Five years ago...
I was nineteen, immersed in college life. My family was whole, and our future seemed bright. Father's successful business provided for us, and Mother's love nurtured our home. My brother, marcus and I attended the best school, surrounded by friends and opportunities.
Last Sundays were sacred. Our family gathered around the breakfast table, laughter and chatter filling the air. Mother's warm smile illuminated the room as she passed around fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon. Father's eyes twinkled as he shared stories of his latest business ventures. Alex and I exchanged playful jabs, our sibling rivalry temporarily forgotten. Afternoon strolls followed, hand in hand, through the nearby park's vibrant gardens.
Life was perfect an easy.
Then, one fateful day...
A police o fficer stood at our doorstep, his expression somber. "I'm sorry to inform you...Mr Johnson was involved in a fatal car accident. His body hasn't been found."
Mother's world shattered. She clutched her chest, as if her heart was breaking. I felt mine shatter too.
The days that followed blurred together
Father's absence left a gaping hole. Our financial stability began to crumble. Mother's health declined, and medical bills piled up,I was the one who needed to grow up fast not Marcus not anyone but it was me who had to grow up fast.
Ophelia opened her eyes, and memories came flooding back. Her mind was a scrapbook of moments from a life that once was. Her eyes felt heavy, weighed down by unshed tears. She blinked repeatedly, trying to shake off the haze.
A single tear escaped, rolling down her cheek like a summer raindrop. For five years, people thought she was strong, unbreakable. But alone in the darkness, Ophelia's facade crumbled. She cried for her father, for the laughter they shared, and the quiet moments that only they understood.
As she curled up in bed, memories swirled around her. She longed to feel her father's gentle touch, to hear his soothing voice. But those days were gone, lost in the silence.
Ophelia's tears fell like autumn leaves, rustling softly on the ground. She mourned the life they once knew, the joy they shared, and the future that now seemed uncertain.
In the stillness, her heart whispered his name. The darkness enveloped her, a soft blanket that hid her tears.
A gentle knock came from the door ,Here's a continuation:
Ophelia rose from her bed, wiping away tears. She approached the door, her footsteps quiet on the wooden floor. She unlocked and opened it, revealing Finley standing with a tray.
"Dinner, Ms. Johnson," Finley announced, his expression neutral.
Ophelia stepped aside, allowing Finley to enter. He set the tray on the bedside table.
"Ginger stew," Finley said.
Ophelia nodded, her gaze following Finley as he turned to leave.
"Thank you, Finley."
Finley nodded curtly and exited, closing the door behind him.
Ophelia's eyes fell on the steaming stew, its aroma filling the room. Her stomach growled, reminding her of her hunger. She sat down, taking a spoonful of the savory stew.
Ophelia savored the flavorful stew, despite the ginger's bitter kick. Her stomach protested, but she ate on, hungry for a decent meal. It had been a while since she'd enjoyed a homemade dinner.
As she ate, worries crept in. Her mother's hospital bills loomed, and Marcus's debts weighed heavily on her mind. His gambling, drinking, and smoking habits had drained their finances.
The thought of smoke made Ophelia crave a cigarette. Occasionally, she'd take a drag to calm her nerves and clear her head. But Mrs. Brooks' warning echoed in her mind: "No smoking on the premises."
Ophelia pushed the craving aside, focusing on her meal. The stew's warmth spread through her, comforting her frazzled nerves.
Finishing her dinner, Ophelia set the tray aside and stood up. Her gaze wandered to the window, the darkness outside mirroring her mood.
She needed distraction. Ophelia spotted a book on the bedside table, she frowned she didn't notice the book earlier ,but she still took the book nonethelessly she needed sleep an dshe needed her mind empty,she picked the book and lay on the bed ,reading every word she could see till her gaze felt heavy and she dozed off.
In the dark night of the night at the other side of the Brooks Mansion,a man stood staring at the portrait of a woman.