Ashley woke up to the sound of raised voices. Her parents were arguing again. At first, she thought it was just another late-night fight, but something about her father's tone made her sit up. Slowly, she slipped out of bed and crept toward their room.
When she pushed the door open, her heart froze. Her father, smelling of alcohol, was gripping a knife in his trembling hand, pointing it toward her mother.
"Dad!" Ashley's voice cracked. "What's going on? You're not supposed to fight with Mom like this. Why are you raising a knife?"
Her mother's eyes widened, but she forced a weak smile. "It's nothing, honey. Just go back to bed. Your father is… being himself. Don't worry about it."
Ashley wanted to argue, but her mother's pleading eyes stopped her. Reluctantly, she returned to her room, confused and afraid.
The next morning, she rushed downstairs, expecting the worst. But instead of tears or blood, she found her parents in the kitchen… laughing, kissing, and acting as though nothing had happened.
"Ew, Mom, Dad," Ashley groaned. "Can't you do that in your room?"
They only laughed harder, brushing her embarrassment aside like it was nothing.
That was the last normal moment Ashley remembered.
Because that same morning, Aunt Helen arrived. Her mother's sister, always cold and distant, never the type to smile. Ashley's eyes narrowed the moment Helen stepped into the house—something about her felt wrong.
"Pack your things," her mother ordered suddenly. "You'll be going with Aunt Helen to London today."
"What? Today? Why?" Ashley's heart raced. "I don't understand—"
"Just do as I say," her mother cut her off sharply.
Her father wasn't even in the room. It was as if he wasn't allowed to know. Aunt Helen's lips curved into a strange smile as she placed a hand on Ashley's shoulder.
"You'll like London," she said softly. "I'll introduce you to my children."
Ashley frowned. Children? Aunt Helen had never had kids. Everyone in the family knew that.
Still, she obeyed. She packed her things, confusion twisting inside her chest, and left with Aunt Helen. From that day on, she never heard from her parents again. Their phone lines were always switched off. Every call ended the same way: silence.
Were they hiding from her? Were they dead? Or was Aunt Helen keeping a secret too dark for her to uncover?
When they arrived at the London house, Ashley was shown to her new room. Across the hallway, music was blasting from another door. Curious, she leaned against it and peeked through the crack.
Inside, a boy she had never seen before was working out, his muscles tense, sweat glistening down his arms. The moment he spotted her, she panicked and ran back to her room, heart racing.
Aunt Helen had called him her "son," but Ashley knew better. There was something off about him too. Something hidden.
And deep down, she knew this was only the beginning of the lies.Episode 1 (continuation )– The Boy Behind the Door
London felt like another world. Aunt Helen tried to make Ashley comfortable—buying her clothes, shoes, even little gifts—but none of it mattered. Her parents' silence weighed heavier than anything money could buy.
Late that night, Ashley borrowed her best friend Quinn's phone to try calling again. "Please, just try their number for me," she begged.
Quinn frowned after a few attempts. "Ash… it's not going through. Are you sure everything's okay?"
Ashley forced a smile, but her voice cracked. "Yeah. Maybe the network's bad. Don't worry."
But inside, she was crumbling.
The next afternoon, Kira—the girl Aunt Helen introduced as Daynaud's elder sister—knocked on Ashley's door. "Come on, Ashley. Time to help in the kitchen."
Ashley followed quietly, her mind still stuck on her parents. She stirred the pot absently, thoughts spinning. Why haven't they called? Why won't anyone tell me what's going on?
Just then, the kitchen door creaked open. A tall boy walked in, his hoodie pulled low over his face. He didn't speak, just moved past them. But Ashley's heart skipped. Even with his face hidden, she couldn't stop staring.
Who is he? she wondered. Why does Aunt Helen call him her son?
Kira caught Ashley staring and nudged her. "That's Daynaud. Don't mind him—he's always brooding. You'll get used to it."
Ashley blushed and looked away, but her curiosity only grew.
Later, while they were still cooking, Aunt Helen began coughing violently. Her face turned pale, and she clutched her chest.
"Kira, get the medicine!" Ashley cried, panicked.
"I'll handle it," Kira said firmly, rushing to Aunt Helen's side. She shoved a tray into Ashley's hands. "Take this upstairs to Daynaud. I'll stay with Aunt Helen."
Ashley froze. "Me? Alone?"
"Yes. Go."
With trembling hands, Ashley climbed the staircase, clutching the tray. Every step felt heavier than the last. When she finally reached his door, she hesitated. Should she knock? Before she could decide, the door swung open.
Daynaud stood there, his hood now pushed back. Ashley's breath caught. His eyes—cold yet strangely vulnerable—met hers, and for a moment she couldn't move. The tray nearly slipped from her hands.
He looked at the food, then at her. "Is that for me?"
Ashley's throat was dry. Words refused to come out. She just stared, frozen in place, as if the world had stopped.
Daynad raised a brow, his voice low and calm. "Well?"
That snapped her back. "O-of course. Yes. It's yours. Sorry."
He took the tray from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers, and Ashley's heart raced wildly.
"Thanks," he said simply. Then his eyes narrowed. "Do you… know anything?"
Ashley blinked. "Know what?"
"Never mind," he muttered. "You can leave now."
She nodded quickly and turned away, but her chest was pounding. What's wrong with me? she asked herself. I've never felt this way about anyone… why him?
And deep inside, Ashley knew this was only the beginning of something she wasn't supposed to feel.