The day started like most others in the mansion, quiet but tense. Isabella had stayed in her room all morning, staring out the window with a book in her lap, though she hadn't turned a single page.
Downstairs, Rosa moved through the laundry room, humming softly to herself. The scent of soap and fresh linen filled the air as she sorted clothes into neat piles. She pulled Isabella's basket closer and began folding a few items, her hands practiced and gentle.
Then she heard it. The soft creak of the door.
Rosa turned her head slightly and caught sight of a young maid, Emilia, standing awkwardly near the shelves. She looked like she was pretending to search for something, but her eyes kept flicking toward Isabella's basket.
Rosa watched in silence as Emilia slowly reached toward the folded laundry. Her fingers touched the edge of one of Isabella's silk gowns, as if she meant to pull it aside.
"Emilia," Rosa said quietly.
The girl jumped and quickly turned around.
"Ma'am... I was just... I thought I misplaced a cloth."
Rosa walked over, her face calm but her eyes sharp. She looked down at the untouched shelf beside the girl, then back to her. "I handle Isabella's laundry myself," she said. "There's no need for anyone else to touch it."
Emilia nodded quickly, her face flushing with shame. "I'm sorry."
Rosa stepped a little closer. Her voice dropped even lower. "You're a smart girl. You know things happen in this house. Quiet things. Dangerous things." Emilia swallowed hard and nodded again.
"If I ever see you near her things again," Rosa said, "I'll make sure you regret it."
The girl didn't say another word. She turned and hurried out, her shoes barely making a sound on the tiled floor.
Rosa stood still for a moment, then looked back at the basket. She gently lifted one of Isabella's dresses and checked inside the folds. Everything seemed fine. Still, her worry deepened. Someone had given that girl a reason to snoop. Rosa could feel it.
That evening, the mansion was unusually silent. Even the staff whispered less, and the halls felt colder.
Isabella had barely eaten during dinner, claiming her stomach felt heavy. Rosa brought her warm tea, tucking her into bed like she had done since she was a child.
As the room dimmed and night took hold, Isabella drifted off into sleep. But her mind did not rest.
***
It started with a soft cry.
A baby's cry.
Isabella opened her eyes inside the dream, though it felt so real. She was standing barefoot on cold marble, the walls around her tall and gray, pulsing like they were alive. Shadows crept along the corners, whispering things she couldn't understand.
The baby cried again.
She turned toward the sound, heart pounding. "Where are you?" she called out.
Her voice echoed, but there was no answer. Only more cries.
She moved forward, and as she walked, the floor began to shift beneath her. It turned red. Wet. Sticky.
Blood.
She gasped and stumbled back, but it was everywhere now. Pouring down the walls. Seeping from the cracks in the floor. Her nightgown stuck to her skin, soaked at the hem.
Then she heard footsteps. Familiar ones.
"Karl?" she called, voice trembling.
Out of the darkness, his silhouette appeared. Tall, strong, but something was wrong.
His face was hidden in shadow, and no matter how close she stepped, she couldn't see his eyes.
"Karl, say something," she begged. But he didn't speak.
He only stood there, bleeding from a wound in his chest. The blood dripped slowly, painting the floor beneath him.
She reached out to him, but every time she took a step closer, he took one back.
"Please don't go," she whispered.
He opened his mouth, but instead of words, smoke came out. Thick, black smoke that wrapped around him like a shroud.
Then the crying started again…louder this time.
She turned sharply and found herself holding a baby, but it wasn't in her arms. The baby lay in a cradle of thorns, skin pale, tiny chest rising and falling with every breath. Its eyes stared up at her, filled with fear.
Isabella dropped to her knees beside the cradle.
"I'm here," she said softly. "I'm here, baby. I'm not leaving you."
A sudden noise made her look up.
Vance.
He stood at the edge of the dream, his face carved from stone, eyes full of rage. Flames danced at his feet.
He raised a gun.
Isabella screamed and grabbed the baby from the cradle, cradling it to her chest. She turned to run, but her legs were heavy, weighed down by chains she hadn't seen before.
Karl's silhouette stood in the distance, surrounded by fire, arms stretched toward her. But he didn't move to help.
She tried to reach him. Tried to scream again.
But the sound was stuck in her throat.
The world started spinning.
The flames closed in.
The baby's cries became screams.
And then…
She woke up.
Isabella sat upright in bed, her face soaked with sweat. Her hands trembled as she clutched the blanket to her chest. Her heart raced so fast she felt like it might break free.
The room was dark, the only light coming from the small lamp Rosa had left on the table.
She looked down at her hands. They were empty.
No baby. No blood. No chains.
Just a dream. But it had felt so real. So real it left her gasping for air.
A soft knock came at the door. Isabella jumped.
"Who is it?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"It's me," Rosa said quietly. "I heard you."Isabella got up and opened the door. Rosa stepped inside, worry written all over her face. "You were crying in your sleep."
"I had a dream," Isabella whispered. "A terrible one."
Rosa placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're not safe here, Bella. I think you know that. People are watching you."
Isabella nodded. "I feel it too. I see it in the way they look at me."
"I caught Emilia going through your laundry today."
Isabella's eyes widened. "What?"
"She was looking for something. Maybe signs. Maybe proof."
"Of what?" Isabella asked, though she already knew the answer.
"You know," Rosa said gently.
Isabella sat back down, pulling her knees to her chest. "I don't know what to do, Rosa. Every time I sleep, I see blood. I see Karl. I see Vance ready to kill us."
"You've carried this alone long enough," Rosa said. "You need to tell someone."
"You know why I can't."
Rosa didn't push further. She sat beside her, holding Isabella's hand in silence.
Outside the window, the wind picked up, howling through the trees.
Inside the room, Isabella closed her eyes again, but she knew sleep would not come easy tonight.
Not with her mind still haunted by fire, blood, and the cries of a child who had not yet been born.