Chapter 3

The heavy drapes in my room let in a pale morning light that cast lengthy shadows on the floor. I had not slept well the previous evening. My thoughts were a maze of fear and intrigue, each idea pulling me farther into this house's secret. Although the note on my pillow was an obvious warning, I was unable to ignore the problems it raised. What had I been excluded from? What was outside Ethan and his staff's well drawn boundaries?

My mind kept drifting back to the incidence that happened in the hallway, the eerie image that appeared and suddenly disappeared, as I was getting dressed. I wanted answers to the questions that chased down my mind, but I know that probing too much could be a call for trouble.

A faint knock on the door startled me as I was still thinking about these things. As I turned to face the door, I saw a woman who looked to be in her late 50s or early 60s standing there. Her erect stance and keen gaze appeared to process everything simultaneously. She appeared nearly severe with her silver hair pushed back into a tight bun and her simple, dark clothing.

Immediately I recognized her. She’s Mrs. Havers, the woman who kept Ethan's house in a precise and appropriate style.

"Mrs. Cross, my name is Mrs. Havers,” her voice weary and cold. “I've come to inquire whether you may need help with anything?

I studied her for a moment, trying to read her face. It was mysterious, like everything about this mansion. "Thank you, Mrs. Havers; I'm OK. I was going to have a short peek around the house. Her eyes narrowed, hardly perceptible. I would advise against doing that, Mrs. Cross. This old mansion has certain dangerous areas where one should not wander.

Although she spoke in a courteous manner, there was a hint of caution buried in her words. It brought to memory the note that had been placed on my pillow, a subtle warning to keep me away from something I shouldn't have seen. "Not safe?" I repeated, attempting to speak in a casual tone. "Explain what you mean." Mrs. Havers's lips became a thin line, and I briefly believed she might not respond. But then, in a quiet, thoughtful voice, she spoke. This estate has areas that have been underutilized for a long time. Best to stay away from them. Additionally, it's preferable if you stay out of situations that don't affect you.

I felt the weight of her stare weighing on me as the room appeared to get colder. Even though she used cautious language, it was obvious that she wanted me to stay in my place and not go outside of it. But that just served to increase my resolve to find out the truth about what was actually going on in this place. With a forced smile, I said, "Of course." "I will exercise caution." With a single nod, Mrs. Havers expressed satisfaction with my response, but there was still a glint of mistrust in her eyes. Okay. You may ring the bell to ask for assistance if necessary. You will get help from a staff member.

I was left handicapped with the thoughts of what she said after she had left. I waited patiently for her to completely be out of the hall before going closer to the door, carefully peering out to see the corridor again. The corridor was totally silent, still, and hollow. But, for the faint ticking of a distant clock, I knew I should listen to Mrs. Havers' admonition, but something within me refused to give up.

I entered the hallway and began exploring, moving softly throughout the house. The mansion was a maze of halls and staircases, each leading to new rooms and secrets.

When I walked in, the personnel seemed to vanish, turning away from me as if deliberately. It made me nervous, as if they were hiding someone, not anything. Athan. While exploring, I stumbled across a door at the end of one of the halls. Within a house where other doors were left open, one simple, plain, and unadorned door stood out merely because it was locked. A persistent voice in my head urged me to seek the cause of my developing curiosity.

I neared the door, my heart racing as I reached for the handle. It did not budge. I tried again, jiggling the handle, but it was ineffective—the door was solidly locked. Frustration and distrust bit at me. Why was this door secured yet so many others were not? What was hiding behind it? Just as I was deciding whether or not to look for a key, I heard footsteps approaching from down the corridor. Panic flooded through me, and I quickly backed away from the door, attempting to appear unconcerned as I hurried to another part of the house. I had no idea who was coming, and I didn't want to get caught looking.

I quickly turned to hid behind a wall, out of sight as the sound of footsteps drew nearer. Peeping over over my left shoulder, I saw the housekeeper, Mrs. Havers, coming close to the same door I'd tried to open, with a key firmly held. She paused for a moment, scanning through the area if anyone was watching.

My pulse pounded as I watched her open the door and sneak inside, pressing against the wall and out of sight. What in a confined room may Mrs. Havers need access to? My head was pounding with possibilities, none of which gave me a clue. Then I realized that whatever was behind that door was clearly not meant for me to see. But, however, my curiosity to find out what was hiding behind the door was piqued.

I drew closer to the door again after she’d completely entered, and the door softly shutting behind her. Curiosity took hold of me, even though I knew I need to get the key to the door to be able to access it, but perhaps I could hear something, just anything, that might point me in the direction of what was behind the door.

I held my breath and pressed my ear to the door to listen. At first, all I could hear around me was the peaceful hum of the house. But then, after what seemed like ages, I heard it: a soft, muffled sound, like someone was whispering. Though I was unable to understand the words, the rhythm and tone of the voices chilled me to the bone.

I retreated, my thoughts whirling. Mrs. Havers was speaking with whom? Why the extreme secrecy, too? I was certain that everything was related, including the barred door, the staff's avoidance, and the warning on my pillow. But in the absence of further details, all I had left were questions, and the solutions appeared to be lurking just out of sight. With my mind racing from all I had seen and heard, my heart was racing as I turned and headed back to my room. I understood that I couldn't address Ethan or Mrs. Havers just yet. I required more time and knowledge. However, the longer I remained in this place, the more unsettling it seemed.

I felt a heavy bothering feeling overwhelmed me immediately I got back into my room. The events that happened during the day kept flooding the entirety of my thoughts as I lay in bed that night.

The knowledge of being watched and monitored, the letter on my pillow, and the shadows that kept closing in, I knew I couldn't trust anyone around here.

I kept hearing the sounds from behind the shut door, and they tormented and troubled me, haunting me in the back of my mind. Even though I knew I should be afraid, my curiosity kept me searching for the answers I so desperately needed.

Ethan's home was full of secrets and shadows that swirled in the corners of my vision, always just out of sight. And I was imprisoned here, obligated by a contract I had signed without fully knowing its implications. The tension in the air was apparent, as if something lurked just beneath the surface, ready to be revealed.

As I lay still with the quietness of the night and ponder more about it, I couldn't get rid of the feeling that I was about to find out something that would give answers to all my questions and change everything.