The heavy rain outside dropped on the windows of the Hargrove estate as Charlotte lay awake moving about in her bed, her mind replaying the events of the previous night. The burnt mark in the woods and Evelyn's sudden disappearance disturbed her thoughts. The more she tried to make sense of it, the more the pieces refused to fit.
She couldn't forget the feeling that Evelyn was hiding something far more dangerous than she was telling her. Determined to find answers, Charlotte decided to keep a closer watch on her.
The estate was silent as it was at midnight. Charlotte had barely slept since discovering the journal, and the scary quietness only increased her unease. She sat by her window, staring at the grounds below, when she spotted a shadow moving very fast across the lawn.
It was Evelyn.
Charlotte's heart raced as she saw Evelyn disappear through a side door leading to the lower levels of the estate. Grabbing her coat, Charlotte followed.
The side door led to the basement, a damp, decayed area Charlotte rarely visited. The air went colder as she climbed down the narrow staircase, her footsteps sounding softly against the stone walls. She paused at the bottom, her eyes adjusting to the dim light.
Small voices carried through the air, coming from a passageway she'd never noticed before. The door to the passage was slightly open, revealing a glimmer of light beyond.
Charlotte pressed herself against the wall, moving cautiously toward the voices. As she moved closer, the sound of Evelyn's voice stopped her in her movement.
"She's growing suspicious," Evelyn said, her tone filled with tension. "We need to finish this soon, or it'll all fall apart."
"Patience," a deep voice replied. "The ritual must be completed under the right conditions, or the consequences will be serious—for all of us."
Charlotte looked through the crack in the door. Inside was a large chamber lit by torches, its walls designed with strange symbols. A group of cloaked figures stood in a circle, with Evelyn at the center.
One of the cloaked figures stepped forward, his voice was cold and filled with authority. "You know the price of failure, Evelyn. The prosperity of your family depends on your obedience. You were marked for this destiny long ago."
"I never asked for this!" Evelyn snapped, her voice breaking. "You've used me as a pawn my entire life. And now you expect me to sacrifice her?"
Charlotte's breath seized in her throat. Sacrifice who?
The figure smiled hard. "It's not about what you want, Evelyn. It's about what must be done. The Hargrove legacy will scatter if the ritual isn't completed. Would you rather watch your family lose everything?"
Evelyn's shoulders dropped, and her resistance disappeared. "I just want this to be over."
Charlotte's heart pounded as she tried to put everything together that she'd heard. Evelyn wasn't the master mind of the events—she was a victim, just like her. The journal's secret warning about a "chosen one" played in her mind.
"Don't fail us," the figure said, pointing a gloved hand at Evelyn. "The full moon approaches. You know what to do."
Evelyn nodded hesitantly, her face pale.
The group began chanting in a low, throaty language, their voices sounding through the chamber. Charlotte's curiosity moved her to shift closer, but the floor beneath her sounded loudly.
The chanting stopped suddenly.
"Who's there?" one of the cloaked figures demanded, their head shifting toward the door.
Charlotte froze, her pulse shaking heavily in her ears. She backed away slowly, praying she hadn't been seen.
Footsteps sounded behind her as she turned and ran up the passageway, her breath seized as she ran tirelessly. The light from the chamber went dimmer as she climbed up the stairs, her heart beating in her chest.
"Find her!" a voice sounded from below.
Charlotte pushed herself harder, entering into the cellar and slamming the door shut behind her. She rushed to shut the lock, her fingers shaking, but the sound of footsteps approaching made her abandon the locking of the door.
She rushed up the staircase leading to the main house, her bare feet made a sound from walking on the cold stone. The dark hallways of the estate looked long and big as she searched for a place to hide.
She saw a big wardrobe at the end of the corridor in the hallway, she then decided to run inside, trying to press herself and ensure she fit herself against the back of the wardrobe and avoid being captured.
Minutes later, the sound of the footsteps of her chasers filled the hallway. Charlotte forced herself to shut her eyes, willing herself to disappear.
"She couldn't have gone far," one of the figures growled.
"Check every room," another ordered.
The footsteps disappeared as the group moved deeper into the estate. Charlotte waited several painful minutes before trying to come out from her hiding place. Her hands shook as she made her way back to her room, hurriedly locking her door immediately.
She collapsed onto her bed, her mind racing. Evelyn's reluctance, the cloaked figures' threats, and the secret warnings in the journal all pointed to one horrible conclusion: she was the intended sacrifice.
But why?
And more importantly, how could she stop it?
The next morning, Charlotte decided to avoid Evelyn, her mind kept replaying the events of the night before. She knew she couldn't confront Evelyn directly, not yet at least. But she needed answers, and she needed them soon.
Jack found her in the library later that day, leaning against a bookshelf as if he'd been waiting for her.
"You've been busy," he said, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
Charlotte looked at him. "You knew, didn't you? About the ritual, the sacrifice—everything."
Jack's smile disappeared. "I know more than you think," he admitted. "But knowing doesn't mean I can stop it."
"Why me?" Charlotte asked, her voice shaking. "What did I do to deserve this?"
Jack sighed, his expression serious. "It's not about what you did. It's about what you are. You're tied to the curse in ways even you don't understand."
Before she could ask him for further explanation, the library door opened with a sound that broke the silence between them. Evelyn stood at the entrance, her facial expression a mixture of both guilt and anger.
"We need to talk," Evelyn said, her voice firm.
Charlotte's face moved between Jack and Evelyn with her mind telling her to run. But she stood her ground, her hands changed into a fist.
"If you want to talk," Charlotte said, her voice steady, "then start by telling me the truth."
Evelyn hesitated, then stepped closer. "You have no idea what's happening here," she said quietly. "But if we don't work together, none of us will survive."
The power in her words made both Evelyn and Jack listen attentively with Jack's expression unreadable. Charlotte's mind spun with questions, but one thought in particular came disturbing her mind:
Who can I trust?