The next morning, Amara's body felt like stone. Her head pounded, her eyes gritty from the sleepless night. But what weighed on her most was the memory of the figure at the edge of the trees.
She tried to convince herself it had been her imagination, some trick of shadows and fear but deep down, she knew better. Someone had been there.
And they had been watching her.
With trembling hands, she reached for the box again. If Jonas was tied to this haunting presence, then the answers could only be found in her grandmother's letters.
The next envelope she chose was dated June 2005.
My dearest Amara,
I fear my time is running out, and there are truths I never wished to burden you with. But if you are reading this, then you must know them, even if they shatter everything you believe about our family.
Jonas and I… we shared more than love. We shared blood. I bore his child in secret, a child no one knew of but him and me. For years I told myself it was a mistake, that burying the truth was safer than exposing it. But secrets have roots, Amara. They dig deep, twisting and poisoning what they touch.
That child was hidden, taken far from me. And yet, Jonas swore he would never let go that his blood would always find its way back.
Amara's breath hitched. A child? Her grandmother… and Jonas?
She scanned the next lines, her heart racing.
I raised your mother believing she was my only. I wanted her to grow up untouched by Jonas's shadow. But if he kept his promise, if his bloodline walks still, then one day, that shadow may fall across you too.
Her hands shook so violently the letter nearly slipped from her grip.
If what her grandmother wrote was true, then Amara wasn't just holding forbidden love letters she was holding the blueprint of a family secret buried for decades.
Her grandmother had another child. Which meant somewhere out there, she had an uncle… or maybe even someone closer. Someone who might know about Jonas.
And if Jonas's bloodline "always finds its way back," then maybe just maybe her own family had been living under his shadow longer than she realized.
Amara clutched the letter to her chest, her mind spiraling. Was that why her mother had been so afraid? Was that why Jonas's name was forbidden?
She thought of the figure outside the night before.
What if it wasn't Jonas?
What if it was his child?
Her stomach turned.
She tucked the letter back into the box, but her eyes fell on the photograph again. Jonas's stare seemed sharper now, almost smug, as if he knew she was unraveling the threads he had left behind.
For the first time, Amara whispered aloud, her voice barely a breath:
"Who are you?"
The silence that followed was deafening. But in the corner of her vision, through the crack of the curtain, she thought she saw movement just a flicker, gone as quickly as it came.
And for the first time, Amara wasn't sure if she was asking Jonas…
Or the person who had inherited his shadow.