The first thing Eliana noticed when she woke was the cold.
Not the usual chill of Maddox Hall's drafty halls, but something deeper—bone-deep. The kind of cold that felt like it had crawled into her bloodstream. She blinked, the dim light of morning filtering in through the silk curtains. Her room—her prison, as it was fast becoming—felt too quiet. Not even the distant creak of old wood or the echo of housekeepers' steps filled the silence.
Her hand went instinctively to her wrist. The bruises from last night's "family dinner" were gone, but she could still feel Adrien's fingers gripping her like iron. His voice echoed in her mind, low and unforgiving: "You wanted the truth? Be careful what you ask for."
She sat up slowly, her limbs aching like she'd run a marathon in her dreams. Except she hadn't dreamed. Not once. Not even the usual flicker of fire or strange voices. Just…nothing.
That scared her more than the nightmares.
A knock—soft, tentative.
"Come in," she called, though her voice cracked with hesitation.
A maid stepped in, head bowed. Not Esther, but a girl no older than eighteen. Her eyes were hollow, like she hadn't slept in days.
"Your breakfast, ma'am." She placed a silver tray on the vanity. "Master Maddox requested it be brought up today."
"Did he?" Eliana's voice sharpened before she meant it to. "Why?"
The girl didn't answer. She simply curtsied and left.
Eliana stared at the door long after it clicked shut. Adrien had never sent her breakfast before. He barely acknowledged her in daylight. What had changed?
She approached the tray slowly. Eggs, toast, tea. All arranged with clinical perfection. She picked up the teacup, hesitated, then set it down. No trust left—not even for food. Especially not when it came from him.
Her eyes landed on the envelope tucked beneath the saucer.
With trembling fingers, she pulled it free.
Her name was written in clean, calligraphic strokes: Eliana Vale Maddox. She didn't recognize the handwriting.
Inside was a single sheet, the ink almost too neat.
Come to the library at noon. Come alone.
Don't tell Adrien.
—E.
Her heart leapt. Esther?
No one else in this cursed place would defy Adrien, let alone warn her not to tell him.
She glanced at the clock. Eleven-thirty.
The letter nearly slipped from her fingers as she rushed to the wardrobe. She threw on a thick sweater and boots. No time for makeup, no time for pretense.
Only time for truth.
⸻
The corridors of Maddox Hall stretched like a maze of shadows. Paintings lined the walls—paintings that stared, she was now convinced, more than they should. Faces she didn't know but felt like she should. She kept her eyes forward, ignoring the way the chill deepened as she neared the western wing.
The library loomed ahead—two heavy doors carved with wolves and roses.
She pushed them open.
The scent hit her first: old paper, aged leather, and something else. Faint. Almost metallic.
"Esther?" she whispered.
Nothing.
She stepped in. The room was massive, towering shelves reaching toward the ceiling. Dust floated in beams of pale light. It felt like walking into a cathedral.
"Eliana."
She turned fast.
Esther stood by the farthest shelf, cloaked in shadow. Her hair was a mess, lips pale. But her eyes burned with something close to desperation.
"What is this?" Eliana asked. "You left. You vanished."
"I had to. They would've killed me if I stayed. But I couldn't leave you."
"Who's they?"
Esther stepped closer, pulling something from her coat. A photo.
Eliana took it slowly.
It was old—faded at the edges. Two women. Identical.
Her heart stuttered.
One of them was her.
The other…wasn't. But it could have been.
"That's not possible," Eliana breathed. "This—this isn't me."
"It's your grandmother. And her sister. The one no one talks about. The one they say died."
"I don't understand."
Esther pointed to the back of the photo. Eliana turned it over.
Scrawled in shaky ink: Elora Vale & Evelyn Vale. 1934.
Bound by blood. Divided by betrayal.
"What betrayal?"
Esther hesitated. "She married into the Maddox family. Your grandmother warned her, but she didn't listen. And she paid for it."
"Paid how?"
"She disappeared. No body. No funeral. Just vanished after the wedding night." Esther's voice trembled. "Just like your sister."
Eliana's knees buckled slightly, and she grabbed the edge of the bookshelf. "You think it's happening again?"
"No. I think it never stopped."
⸻
Back in her room, Eliana paced.
The photo. The letter. Adrien's sudden kindness. All of it felt staged, like pieces being moved across a board she didn't understand.
She pulled the drawer open and retrieved her sister's diary—the one she wasn't supposed to have. She flipped to the dog-eared page.
He's not who he says he is. And neither am I.
If you're reading this, run.
She stared at the words. Her sister hadn't been crazy. She'd known. Known what?
A sudden knock jolted her.
She tucked the diary under the mattress and opened the door.
Adrien stood there. Tall, controlled, eyes unreadable.
"You weren't in your room earlier," he said, almost casually.
"I went for a walk," she lied, too fast.
"I see." His gaze dropped to the tray on the vanity. "Didn't like the tea?"
"I wasn't thirsty."
He stepped inside, his presence swallowing the space. "We need to talk."
She stiffened. "About what?"
He closed the door behind him. "About the past. About why you feel like you're drowning in a life that doesn't feel like yours."
Her throat tightened.
"I never told you," he continued, "that I knew your sister."
"What?"
"She came here before you. Under a different name. She was investigating the Maddox family. Said she was writing a book. But she wasn't."
Eliana's mind reeled. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because it's time you knew the truth. About the vows. About why you're here."
She stepped back. "Tell me, then."
Adrien's eyes met hers, unflinching. "You and I… we've been married before. Not in this life. But before. Again and again. And every time, something tears us apart."
Eliana shook her head, laughing bitterly. "You expect me to believe that?"
"No," he said softly. "I expect you to remember."
And then he handed her a ring.
Silver, aged. With her name engraved inside.
But not her name now.
Elora.
She dropped it like it burned.