Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Nursery
“Open the archive room,” Julian ordered, his voice dropping to a terrifying, icy whisper that brooked no argument.
Elena scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her emerald dress. “Are you out of your mind? The archive has been sealed since the tragedy. There's nothing in there except ghosts and dust!”
“There is truth in there,” Julian snapped back, turning on her with a ferocity that made Elena step back involuntarily. “Every birth certificate, every medical record, every legal document from the estate's founding is locked behind those iron doors. Move.”
The heavy iron key turned in the lock with a rusty shriek that echoed down the subterranean hallway of the east wing. The archive room smelled of old paper, damp stone, and forgotten time. Rows of towering mahogany bookshelves stretched into the shadows, lit only by the flickering beam of Julian's heavy brass flashlight.
Mia followed a few paces behind, her small frame wrapped in a oversized wool blanket Julian had thrown over her shoulders. She looked around wide-eyed, as if expecting the shadows to reach out and grab her.
“Look at the ledgers from twenty-two years ago,” Julian instructed, his hand steadying as he pulled down a massive, leather-bound registry.
Pages yellowed with age rustled under his fingertips. Names, dates, births, and deaths—the bureaucratic skeleton of a wealthy dynasty. Elena stood by the doorway, refusing to step foot into the gloom, her arms crossed, a sneer playing on her lips.
“You're chasing phantoms, Julian,” Elena called out mockingly. “You're letting a dirty little beggar girl manipulate you with a cheap counterfeit ring and a sob story. If she's a Vance, then I'm the Queen of England.”
“Shut up, Elena,” Julian growled, his eyes scanning a specific page near the back of the ledger—a section marked Confidential Records: Direct Lineage.
His finger stopped on an entry dated November 14th.
“Twin female infants born to Julian Vance and Catherine Vance. Primary infant deceased due to smoke inhalation during the secondary wing fire. Secondary infant… status: Missing / Unaccounted for amidst evacuation chaos.”
The flashlight flickered and died. Total, suffocating darkness swallowed the room.
For a terrifying second, nobody breathed. Then, a soft, metallic click echoed from the far corner of the archive—the sound of a hidden door springing open, accompanied by a cold gust of wind that smelled distinctly of sea salt and old roses.
“Who's there?” Julian called out, stepping protectively in front of Mia.
May you like
From the pitch-black shadows of the hidden alcove, a slow, deliberate clap echoed through the room.
“Bravo, Julian,” a raspy, unfamiliar voice whispered out of the dark. “You finally found the page. Took you long enough.”
