Julian’s POV

The wind was quieter at the back of the mansion. Still. Heavy.

I moved fast, my steps sure, silent. I passed the last row of garden trees, ducked under the broken fence, and kept going until I reached the far end where no one ever went.

This was where the air felt colder. Heavier. Like it knew secrets.

She’d told me where to go. Told me not to be late.

“Past the old well,” she had said, “until you see the stone arch. Follow it. You’ll find the guesthouse. The one nobody ...