Chapter 7 — The Room Upstairs

Another crash came from upstairs. Adrian moved before I could react. He stepped in front of me. “Stay here.” “Absolutely not.” He looked at me. “This isn't the time to argue.” “Someone is in my house.” “I know.” “And you're telling me to stay downstairs?” “Yes.” I stared at him. “You're insane.” “Probably.” He started toward the stairs. I followed. He stopped. “I said stay here.” “And I said I'm not staying alone.” For a second, neither of us moved. Then he sighed. “Fine. Stay behind me.” We climbed the stairs slowly. The house was silent. Too silent. I could hear my own breathing. At the top of the stairs, Adrian raised a hand. We stopped. Another sound. A drawer opening. From my mother's old room. My stomach dropped. “That room has been locked for years,” I whispered. Adrian looked at me. “Why?” “My mother didn't let anyone in there.” He turned toward the door. “Stay behind me.” He pushed it open. The room was dark. Moonlight spilled through the curtains. Everything looked exactly the way I remembered. The old wardrobe. The desk. The bookshelf. And the painting. I froze. “That's it.” Adrian looked at the painting. He walked toward it. But before he could touch it— A figure moved behind the curtains. Adrian reacted instantly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. The curtains moved again. Then someone ran. Adrian chased them. I stood frozen for half a second before following. The figure disappeared down the hallway. A door slammed. Adrian reached it and pulled it open. Nothing. Just an empty room. I looked around. “Where did they go?” He didn't answer. Instead, he crouched. Something was lying on the floor. A small black object. He picked it up. My heart stopped. “What is that?” He turned it over. “A phone.” “Whose?” “I don't know.” He pressed the power button. The screen lit up. No password. There was only one photograph in the gallery. Adrian opened it. My breath caught. It was a picture of me. Sleeping. In my own bedroom. I stepped backward. “No.” Adrian's expression changed. “When was this taken?” “I don't know.” He checked the details. Then looked at me. “Tonight.” My blood ran cold. Someone had been watching me. Inside my own house. Adrian immediately called someone. “It's happening again.” He listened. His face became harder. “No. She knows.” A pause. “I said she knows.” He ended the call. I stared at him. “Who was that?” “No one.” “Stop lying to me.” He looked exhausted. “I don't have time to explain everything.” “You never do!” My voice echoed through the hallway. “I am tired of being the person everyone keeps protecting with half-truths!” Adrian went silent. Then he said quietly, “You want the truth?” “Yes.” “All right.” He walked back into my mother's room. He reached for the painting. And pulled it from the wall. Behind it was a small metal safe. I stared at it. “My mother had a safe?” Adrian nodded. “Apparently.” He ran his fingers along the edge. Then stopped. “There should be a key.” “Where?” He looked at me. “You tell me.” “I don't have a key.” He studied my face. Then his eyes dropped to my necklace. The one I'd worn for as long as I could remember. The little silver pendant my mother had given me when I was six. He stepped closer. “Take that off.” I frowned. “Why?” “Just trust me.” I pulled the necklace over my head. He turned the pendant over. There was a tiny seam I had never noticed. Adrian pressed it. The pendant opened. Inside was a miniature key. I stared at it. “No way.” Adrian took it. He inserted it into the safe. The lock clicked. Inside was a stack of photographs. A flash drive. And a handwritten letter. My name was written across the front. For my daughter. My hands started shaking. Adrian picked up the letter. “You don't have to read it.” I took it from him. “Yes, I do.” I opened it. The first line made my heart stop. If you're reading this, Adrian failed to keep you away. I looked up at him. He didn't move. I looked back at the letter. And read the next line. Don't trust him. For the first time since I met Adrian— I wondered if he had ever actually been trying to protect me. Or if he had been leading me here all along.

What Love Makes Us Do

Referral Earning

Points-to-Coupons