Kaven instinctively pulled Lara behind him, his body shielding her as both of them turned towards the front door. The hallway lights flickered once. The voice was gone — only the door swinging ever so gently on its rusty hinges remained.
Lara clutched Kaven's arm. "Did someone follow us?"
Kaven didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on the door.
"No one knew we were coming here," he murmured.
A gust of air swept through the corridor, making an old curtain flap loosely by the living room entrance. Lara's gaze moved up the attic stairs. "We're already here. Let's get what we came for."
Kaven nodded slowly. "Stay behind me. Don't touch anything unless I say."
They climbed the creaking attic stairs, the smell of wood and dust getting stronger with every step. The attic wasn't as big as they remembered. Maybe it felt smaller because of the weight in their chests now — the buried questions, the truths clawing their way to the surface.
Kaven pulled the string light hanging from the ceiling. A weak yellow bulb flickered to life, illuminating boxes, photo albums, old coats, and a dusty trunk.
Lara stepped toward the trunk. It was the same one she remembered her mother placing important files in — documents, photos, records.
She hesitated. "This might have something... anything."
Kaven crouched beside her. "Let me open it."
But as soon as he touched the latch, his phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number:
"You're too close. Walk away."
His hands froze.
Lara looked at him. "What's wrong?"
He slowly turned the screen toward her.
She stared at it for a long second before whispering, "They're watching us…"
---
End of Chapter 11