Rain continued to drum softly against the windows.
Liora sat alone in Elara’s room, the sealed envelope resting in her hands.
The words written across the front seemed heavier now than they had a few minutes ago.
To Dad.
If anything happens to me.
She swallowed.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Quieter.
As though the walls themselves were waiting to see what she would do next.
A part of her wanted to open it.
The temptation was almost unbearable.
After all, nobody would know.
Nobody would ever find out.
The letter had remained hidden for years, probably.
Years.
Yet another part of her felt uncomfortable.
This wasn’t addressed to her.
It wasn’t meant for her eyes.
It belonged to Cassian.
To a father who had spent years mourning the daughter who wrote it.
Liora stared at the envelope.
Then sighed heavily.
“No.”
The word sounded surprisingly firm.
Slowly, she placed it back inside the drawer.
At least for now.
*****
The rest of the afternoon passed in an uncomfortable blur.
She attempted to read.
Failed.
Attempted to study.
Failed again.
Even television couldn’t hold her attention.
Every thought returned to the letter.
And every thought eventually led back to Cassian.
The image of him standing silently in Elara’s room resurfaced.
The sigh.
The sadness.
The loneliness.
She wondered what he would do if he discovered the letter.
Would he open it immediately?
Or would he stare at it for hours first?
Would he be angry that nobody had found it sooner?
Or grateful that a piece of Elara had somehow remained?
The questions followed her until evening.
*****
Adrian returned shortly before sunset.
Liora found him in one of the smaller sitting rooms reviewing documents.
He looked exhausted.
Several folders occupied the coffee table.
A phone sat beside them.
Half-empty coffee rested nearby.
He barely glanced up when she entered.
“You’re home.”
“So it would appear.”
Liora folded her arms.
“I found something.”
Adrian immediately looked up.
The reaction alone was suspicious.
His eyes narrowed.
“What did you do?”
“I dislike how quickly you assume I’ve done something.”
“You found something.”
“Fair point.”
She placed the envelope on the table.
The moment Adrian saw the handwriting, his expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Enough for her to notice.
Enough for her to know it mattered.
He slowly picked it up.
Studied it.
Read the words.
And for a moment, the room became very quiet.
“Where did you find this?”
“The locked drawer.”
A long pause followed.
Then:
“You opened the drawer.”
“It was locked.”
“That was meant to discourage you from it.”
“Well, it only encouraged me.”
Adrian closed his eyes briefly.
Perhaps counting to ten.
Perhaps to one hundred.
Liora wasn’t sure.
Finally, he exhaled.
“You are impossible.”
“Because it’s true.”
Despite his annoyance, he continued staring at the envelope.
Almost reluctantly.
Almost carefully.
As though touching it incorrectly might damage something irreplaceable.
“You haven’t opened it?”
“No.”
That finally earned her his full attention.
For a moment, he seemed genuinely surprised.
Then something resembling approval crossed his features.
“It wasn’t mine to open.”
Adrian nodded.
A small gesture.
Yet somehow it felt important.
“It’s Cassian’s.”
The answer was simple.
But it carried weight.
The envelope remained between them.
Neither spoke for several moments.
Eventually, Liora broke the silence.
“Why wasn’t it found before?”
Adrian leaned back in his chair.
A distant look in his eyes.
“After Elara disappeared, very few people entered her room.”
“Not even you?”
“I handled what needed handling.”
His gaze drifted toward the envelope.
“But Cassian couldn’t.”
Liora remained silent.
“He stopped coming here for months.”
A pause.
“Maybe longer.”
The answer hurt more than she expected.
Adrian continued quietly.
“The room remained largely untouched.”
Suddenly, the hidden drawer made sense.
Nobody had been searching.
Nobody had been looking.
Everyone had been grieving.
And grief often missed things.
*****
Later that evening, Adrian left with the letter.
His intention was clear.
He planned to give it to Cassian.
Liora watched him disappear down the hallway, holding the envelope.
A strange nervousness settled inside her chest.
Part of her wanted to know what was written inside.
The other part wasn’t sure she wanted to know at all.
The next morning arrived bright and clear.
The rain had vanished.
Sunlight poured across the estate.
For the first time in days, the atmosphere felt lighter.
At least until breakfast.
Mrs Davenport approached her table carrying a clipboard.
The elegant older woman offered a polite nod.
“Miss Bennett.”
Liora looked up.
“Good morning.”
“Mr Valmere is currently in the east wing.”
The statement seemed random.
Until Liora realised which Mr.
Valmere she meant.
Cassian.
Immediately, understanding dawned.
“Oh.”
Mrs Davenport adjusted her glasses.
“You may wish to use the western corridor today.”
Liora smiled.
“Am I really that difficult to hide?”
The older woman looked at her for several seconds.
Then:
“You’d be surprised.”
Liora laughed softly.
Yet something about the answer lingered.
The staff weren’t simply following instructions anymore.
They were helping.
Protecting.
And somehow that made her feel guilty.
Most of the morning passed peacefully.
Until shortly after noon.
The atmosphere changed.
Subtly at first.
Then noticeably.
Staff members moved faster.
Conversations became shorter.
Liora noticed immediately.
“What happened?”
A young staff member carrying documents paused.
His expression became oddly tense.
“Mrs Vivienne Valmere is visiting.”
Then he hurried away.
Liora frowned.
Vivienne.
One of the names she’d heard before.
One of the names connected to the family.
A few minutes later, Mrs Davenport found her again.
This time her tone carried a hint of urgency.
“It would be best if you remained upstairs this afternoon.”
Liora blinked.
“Why?”
The older woman hesitated.
Only briefly.
Then:
“Because I asked.”
That answer alone told Liora everything.
Something was happening.
And she wasn’t supposed to be part of it.
Unfortunately, curiosity immediately awakened.
Again.
She didn’t intentionally spy.
At least that was what she told herself later.
The truth was slightly different.
She happened to be walking through the second-floor gallery overlooking the grand entrance hall.
Pure coincidence.
Mostly.
Below, voices echoed softly.
The main doors stood open.
Several staff members waited nearby.
Then she saw her.
Vivienne Valmere.
The woman looked nothing like the villain Liora had imagined.
She was elegant.
Graceful.
Beautiful despite her age.
Silver strands blended seamlessly into perfectly styled dark hair.
Her clothing was immaculate.
Every movement appeared deliberate.
Controlled.
Refined.
The sort of woman who commanded attention without raising her voice.
Liora understood immediately why people listened to her.
Why they fear her
Why they respect her?
Vivienne approached the entrance.
A driver opened the car door.
Everything seemed normal.
Then suddenly—
Vivienne stopped.
Completely.
Her head tilted.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And then she looked upward.
Toward the gallery.
Toward Liora.
For one terrifying second, their eyes almost met.
Liora’s heart lurched.
Instinct took over.
She stepped backwards immediately.
Disappearing behind one of the large marble pillars.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
Too close.
Way too close.
Several seconds passed.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
Carefully, she leaned forward.
Just enough to peek.
The entrance hall was empty.
Vivienne was gone.
Outside, a sleek black car pulled away from the estate.
Liora released a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.
She should’ve felt relieved.
Instead, a strange feeling settled over her.
Because something about that moment had felt wrong.
As though Vivienne hadn’t looked up by accident.
As though she’d sensed something.
Someone.
And although she hadn’t seen Liora’s face…
For the first time, Liora wondered whether the game she was playing was becoming far more dangerous than she’d realised.
Far below, the grand doors closed.
The sound echoed through the estate.
And somewhere deep inside the house, unseen by everyone, old secrets continued waiting for their turn to emerge.