The next morning was unusually cold. Fog blanketed the hillside like a warning, clinging to the windows of the mansion and muting the world outside. Inside, silence reigned again. No one had seen Gemma since she shut the door the day before.
Gabriel stood in front of her bedroom door, hesitating. He wanted to knock, to ask her what she meant last night. "What truth?" That voice—it had startled him. Clear, calm, cold. The first sound she'd made in eight years, and yet it felt like she'd never stopped speaking in her silence.
He finally raised his hand and knocked gently. No answer.
He leaned his head against the door. "Gem… I know you're listening. I heard you. Last night. You spoke. Why now? Why after so long?" His voice cracked a little. "Please… say something. Even if it's just to me."
But the silence stayed loyal to her.
Downstairs, Lucy sat in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring her tea. Her hands trembled slightly. She hadn't slept. George's return had rattled her, and Gemma's voice had stirred problem, even if she wanted it to happened she feels scared.
Then the front doorbell rang. One long chime. Only a few people ever used that bell.
She opened the door slowly, her fake smile already plastered on. But the smile faded immediately.
A man stood at the entrance. Dark grey suit. Slicked back hair. Sharp eye's that didn't blink enough.
Ma'am he said coolly..
"We met last night" she said angrily
"I know"
Without another word, he handed her a sealed envelope and walked away,disappearing into the fog like a ghost.