Shadows In the hall

Chapter 3 – Shadows in the Hall

Ava Carter POV

"Now you’ve seen what you shouldn’t have."

His voice wasn’t raised, but it landed like a slap. Damon Blackwood stood just a few feet away, barely illuminated by the low hallway light. His eyes weren’t furious—they were worse. Cold. Empty. Calculating.

I opened my mouth, trying to speak, to apologize—but the words tangled up in my throat.

"I heard something," I managed to whisper.

"There are many things in this house you’ll hear. Most of them are better left unexplored."

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, until he stood inches away. His gaze bore into mine.

"Did you see her?"

My lips parted. "Who was she?"

His jaw tensed. "A memory. One you don’t have the right to disturb."

I swallowed hard. "I didn’t mean to disobey. I just... I was curious."

"Curiosity is what gets people killed in places like this."

The temperature dropped a few degrees.

He reached past me, slowly pushing the door to the east wing shut. The click of the latch echoed in the silence like a gavel falling.

"Return to your room. And if you value your place here—your life here—don’t ever step near this wing again."

I nodded, retreating down the corridor with quick, quiet steps, heart hammering.

---

Morning came with no dreams. Just heavy sleep and a dull ache in my chest.

I dressed quickly, avoiding the mirror this time. I didn’t want to see the fear still stamped across my face.

Margaret met me at the door with her usual tight expression. "Miss Emilia will see you in the garden today."

No mention of last night. No hint that anything had happened.

I followed the path through the back of the estate. The garden was overgrown but beautiful in its wildness. Ivy clung to stone statues, and roses—dark red and white—grew in tangled masses.

Emilia sat on a swing hanging from an ancient tree. She didn’t look up when I approached.

"You went to the east wing," she said softly.

I stopped short.

"Did your father tell you that?"

"I saw it in my dream."

I blinked. "You dreamt it?"

She finally turned to face me. Her eyes were strange. Knowing.

"The woman you saw... she used to live here. Before Daddy locked her away."

A chill skittered up my spine. "She lived here? You mean she worked here?"

Emilia shook her head slowly. "No. She was... important. But she made Daddy angry. So she disappeared."

My mouth went dry.

"What was her name?"

"Evelyn."

The name hung in the air like perfume.

---

Later that day, I found myself back in the solarium for lunch. Damon didn’t speak until the meal was nearly over.

"You frightened Emilia last night."

I flinched. "I didn’t mean to. I—"

"Don’t make excuses."

His fork clinked against his plate as he set it down.

"You need to understand something, Ava. This house has rules for a reason. And I brought you here not to test them—but to follow them."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

He stood and walked toward the window, hands clasped behind his back.

"Evelyn was my wife."

My heart stuttered.

"She broke every rule. Including the one that matters most."

I waited, afraid to speak, afraid to breathe.

He turned, his expression unreadable. "Don’t follow her path."

---

That night, the house felt different.

Colder. Quieter.

Even the shadows seemed darker.

I double-checked that my door was locked and climbed into bed early. But sleep remained far away.

My thoughts kept drifting back to Evelyn.

What happened to her?

Did she really disappear?

Or was she still here, trapped in the east wing, a ghost of the past?

At exactly 3:00 a.m., I heard the humming.

Soft. Melodic. Feminine.

It drifted through the wall behind my headboard.

I sat up slowly, ears straining.

The song was familiar—a lullaby. The kind my mother used to sing when I was small.

I slid out of bed, barefoot again, and pressed my ear to the wall.

The humming grew louder.

Then it stopped.

A knock sounded on the wall.

Three soft taps.

Just like the knock that woke me my first morning here.

But this time... it came from inside the wall.

I stumbled back, heart racing. The wall was solid. It couldn’t be hollow. Could it?

I stared at it for a long time before crawling back into bed, curling tight under the blankets.

I didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

---

The following day, I asked Margaret about Evelyn.

Her face went stone-cold.

"It is not your place to ask."

"I just want to understand—"

"No, you want to survive. And if that’s truly the case, Miss Carter, you’ll keep your curiosity to yourself."

She left without another word.

---

Days passed.

Emilia grew more comfortable with me, even letting me read to her at night. She liked stories about witches and haunted castles.

"Daddy says magic isn’t real," she whispered one night, snuggling into her pillow.

"Do you believe him?"

She paused. "I think Daddy’s scared of it."

That made me pause, too.

---

By the end of the week, I started noticing patterns. Locked doors that were briefly open. Books that moved from shelf to shelf. The piano in the music room playing a single note at odd hours.

One night, I followed the sound again. This time, I brought a flashlight.

I didn’t go to the east wing. I went to the library.

The light above the fireplace flickered as I entered.

The room was cold.

I searched the shelves, hoping for something—a diary, a letter, anything. Instead, I found a loose panel behind the third shelf.

Inside was a box. Small, wooden, locked.

I tucked it into my hoodie pocket, heart pounding.

I returned to my room and used a bobby pin to open it.

Inside were photographs.

Of Evelyn.

She was beautiful. Soft eyes. Kind smile. Holding baby Emilia.

And then I saw the last photo.

Evelyn and Damon.

But he looked different. Not just younger.

Happier.

Human.

There was writing on the back of the photo.

"If you find this, Ava, be careful. He lies."

My blood turned to ice.

Someone knew I would come.

But how?

Before I could think further, I heard it again.

The humming.

But this time... it came from inside my room.

---

To be continued...