The soft creak of the library door was the only sound as Lena stepped into the room. She'd spent much of the day trying to keep her mind busy, but the nagging questions about her family refused to leave her alone.
Mrs. Henley stood by one of the shelves, dusting an ornate vase. The older woman turned at the sound of Lena's footsteps, her warm expression brightening as she saw her.
"Couldn't stay away, could you?" Mrs. Henley teased gently.
Lena managed a small smile but didn't return the humor. She leaned against one of the desks, her arms crossed tightly. "Mrs. Henley," she began, her voice quieter than she intended. "Can I ask you something?"
The older woman's hands stilled. She placed the duster on the shelf, her brow furrowing slightly. "Of course, dear. What's on your mind?"
Lena hesitated. "It's about my family. My mother."
Mrs. Henley's warm demeanor didn't falter, but her fingers fidgeted slightly as she straightened the vase on the shelf. "Ah," she said softly. "Your mother..."
"I don't remember much about her," Lena admitted, stepping closer. "I was told she left when I was eight, but the more I think about it, the less it makes sense. Why would she leave? What kind of mother just... walks away?"
Mrs. Henley sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands. "Your mother was a remarkable woman, Lena. She loved you more than anything."
"But that's not an answer," Lena said, her voice sharpening. "If she loved me so much, why did she leave? Or was I lied to about that too?"
Mrs. Henley met Lena's gaze, her eyes clouded with something Lena couldn't quite place. "There are things about your family that are... complicated," she said carefully. "Things I'm not sure I'm the right person to tell you."
Lena stepped closer, her frustration bubbling over. "Then who is the right person, Mrs. Henley? Because no one seems willing to tell me anything!"
The older woman opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps cut through the air. Lena turned sharply just as Damien entered the library.
And he wasn't alone.
The woman who followed him was drop dead gorgeous. She had dark auburn hair that fell in soft waves over her shoulders and eyes that sparkled with confidence. She walked with a graceful ease that made Lena's own insecurities flare up like a sore spot.
"Lena," Damien said, his voice even. "I see you're up early."
Lena's pulse quickened at the sight of him. She hadn't spoken to him properly since their argument, and her frustration with him hadn't eased. But it wasn't Damien who held her attention now—it was the woman beside him.
"And who's this?" Lena asked, her tone sharper than she intended.
The woman stepped forward, extending a hand. "Vanessa," she said smoothly. "I'm here on business with Damien."
Damien's business. Of course. Lena's chest tightened with something she refused to name. Jealousy, maybe, though it made no sense.
"It's nice to meet you," Lena said tersely, though she didn't take Vanessa's hand.
Vanessa lowered her arm gracefully, her smile unfaltering. "Likewise. I've heard so much about you."
Lena glanced at Damien, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. The tension in the room was almost suffocating, and Lena suddenly felt like an intruder in her own life.
"If you'll excuse me," she said abruptly, brushing past them. "I just remembered I need to check on something upstairs."
Neither Damien nor Vanessa stopped her, and she didn't look back as she left the library.
Lena reached her room, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it. Her heart was racing, but she didn't know if it was from frustration, embarrassment, or something else entirely.
She crossed the room to the window, staring out at the estate grounds. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows over the trees.
And then it came—the memory.
It hit her like a wave, vivid and sharp, pulling her into a moment she couldn't quite grasp.
She was running. The trees blurred around her as her bare feet pounded against the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of earth and leaves, and her chest burned with the effort of breathing.
Behind her, there was a sound. Footsteps. Closing in around her.
"Stop!" a strange voice called out, rough and commanding.
Lena glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of her pursuer. His face was obscured, but his presence was overwhelming. She stumbled, falling to her knees, and he was on her in an instant.
"Do you even know what you are?" he hissed, gripping her arm tightly.
Lena struggled, her heart pounding as his words echoed in her ears.
"Do you know what you are?"
The memory shattered, leaving her gasping for air. She clutched the windowsill, her knees trembling as she tried to steady herself.
She didn't know who the man was, but his voice lingered in her mind, along with the unshakable feeling that she'd just scratched the surface of a truth far more dangerous than she'd ever imagined.