---
Avery's POV
I woke up with a start, the morning already well underway.
The light filtering through the curtains did nothing to soothe the knot still twisting in my stomach. My mind remained saturated with last night's conversations, tangled with nonsensical dreams that kept chasing me even while awake.
I went down the stairs slowly, still wearing my gray pajamas. Every creak of the wood made me flinch. Despite the sleep still burning my eyes, something struck me immediately: the house was silent.
Too silent.
No one was up yet.
I headed for the kitchen to make myself a coffee when a voice nearly made me jump out of my skin.
"Good morning."
"Shit!" I blurted out, my heart racing.
I spun around. Gabriel was there, leaning against the counter, a mug in his hand. His eyes were on me—focused, attentive. Too present.
"Oh, damn it…" I muttered, pressing a hand to my chest, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat.
Then, more curtly:
"Morning."
I started rummaging through the cabinets, looking for coffee pods.
"I already made some," he said, gesturing toward the machine on the counter.
I followed his gesture. The coffee pot was indeed full. Without arguing, I poured myself a cup. While I did, he tried to start a conversation.
"So… did you sleep well?" he asked, lifting his mug to his lips.
"In your opinion?" I replied without even looking at him.
I felt his gaze linger on me, studying me more closely.
"I'll take that as a no."
"Good deduction," I shot back, walking away.
I crossed paths with Will on the stairs. We exchanged a brief greeting before I headed up to my room.
Strangely, Will reminded me of someone. A fleeting, insistent feeling… but I couldn't put a face or a name to it. I didn't dwell on it.
By reflex, I reached for my nightstand to grab my phone.
Empty.
I'd left it in my room. At home.
I opened the drawer of my desk next, looking for my notebook.
That too was still there.
And thinking about it… my dad's notebook—the one I'd found the day before. The second key, identical to the one Gabriel had pretended to forget—I was certain of it now.
Everything was still in the secret room in my father's office.
At home.
I let out a long sigh.
How was I supposed to find answers now?
I couldn't rely on my mother, and I couldn't confront Gabriel if I wanted to understand anything. Every lead seemed to close before I even had a chance to follow it.
There was only one option left.
Go back to the house.
But how?
---
9:10 a.m.
After thinking it over for a while, I came up with a rough idea of how I could slip past all those bodyguards watching the place. I knocked on Daniel's door. It took him a while to answer. I knocked again—and this time I heard a metallic sound fall to the floor inside his room.
I was about to open the door when it suddenly swung open.
"What were you doing?" I asked, trying to peer inside.
He blocked my view, standing firmly in front of me.
"Nothing…"
"You sure about that?"
"Yes," he said, glancing slightly behind him.
He was acting strange. Very strange. But I hadn't come to judge him—just to talk.
"Can we talk?"
"Yeah," he said awkwardly.
"Then let me in," I said, pushing the door.
"What—now?" he stammered.
"No, tomorrow," I replied sarcastically. "Move."
"Uh… maybe we could do it later," he said nervously, preventing me from entering.
"What's really going on with you?"
"Please, can we talk later?" he said impatiently.
"No. It's important," I insisted.
"I can't right now, Avery."
"And why not?" 🤨
"Later," he said firmly, slamming the door in my face.
"Are you serious?" I muttered, stunned.
"Fine. I'll do it without you!" I shouted.
"Jerk."
---
I stayed still in my room for a few seconds, listening closely. I was determined to put my plan into motion—even without Daniel's help.
The house breathed around me.
Running water somewhere. The kitchen sink, probably.
Footsteps outside—slow, steady.
They weren't together.
I knew it.
I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair. Not my bag. No need.
Just my room key, out of habit—as if I were coming back in five minutes.
I left without rushing.
The hallway was empty.
Too calm.
Every detail came back to me with unsettling clarity:
the table against the wall, the window overlooking the lake, the narrow door near the stairs that no one really used.
I'd noticed it when we arrived.
Once.
That had been enough.
I went down the steps one by one.
The wood creaked softly.
I froze.
The water was still running.
My mother was still busy.
I crossed the living room as if I had every right to be there.
As if I weren't doing anything wrong.
The secondary door was there.
Exactly where my memory said it would be.
I placed my hand on the handle.
A raised voice in the distance.
Gabriel—outside. Too far away to hear me.
I opened it.
The door let out a faint groan.
I stiffened, my heart ready to burst.
Then… nothing.
I stepped outside and closed it gently behind me.
The air felt cooler out here.
Freer.
I walked along the side of the house without running, counting my steps in my head.
Ten.
Twenty.
The grounds weren't big. I knew that.
The gravel path appeared exactly where I remembered it.
I turned left.
Once out of sight of the house, only then did I speed up.
No panic.
Not yet.
I walked until I reached the road—the same one I'd briefly seen from the car the day before. I recognized every curve, every tree I'd allowed myself to notice.
When I finally stopped, out of reach, out of sight, I realized I was shaking.
Not from the cold.
From adrenaline.
They were going to notice.
But not right away.
And for the first time in a long while, that thought made me smile.
---