###chapter-2_the_house_that_watches.
Christa didn't sleep.
The tea remained untouched on the tray near the door.
By morning, the steam was gone.
The silence of the mansion felt heavier in daylight.
Too orderly.
Too controlled.
Like a stage waiting for actors.
She sat at the vanity, staring at Elira's reflection again, trying to organize the chaos in her mind.
In the novel, Elira was described as:
• cold
• arrogant
•socially isolated
•politically inconvenient.
And most importantly—
Disposable.
Someone the story removed early to prove the world was dangerous.
But now Christa was here.
Alive.
Thinking.
Changing things.
A quiet knock came again.
"Lady Elira," a different voice said.
"Breakfast is ready."
Not the same servant as yesterday.
That meant something.
Everything meant something.
"I'll come down," Christa replied.
Her voice sounded steadier now.
Good.
She needed that.
Because in a thriller story, weakness invited predators.
______________________________________
Dinning Hall
The table was too long.
At the far end sat three people.
Exactly where christa remembered.
Her father — Duke Venscroft.
Her stepmother — Lady Mirelle.
Her stepbrother — Lucien.
The novel described them as a "perfect noble family."
But the narration always hinted otherwise.
Christa walked in calmly.
Three pairs of eyes watched her.
Evaluating.
Measuring.
Waiting.
"Good morning, Elira," the Duke said without warmth.
She nodded slightly.
"Father."
Her stepmother smiled.
Too perfectly.
"You seem pale today. Did you sleep well?"
A test.
Everything here was a test.
"I did," Christa said.
Lucien watched her silently.
In the novel, Lucien never spoke much in early chapters.
But he noticed everything.
That made him dangerous.
Breakfast was served.
Wholemeal toast, oeufs en cocotte, sausages, bacon, black pudding, Earl Grey tea.
Again.
Christa didn't touch the cup.
Her stepmother noticed.
"Not thirsty?" Mirelle asked gently.
"I'm not in the mood for tea today," Christa replied.
A small pause followed.
So small most people wouldn't notice.
But christa did.
Lucien's eyes shifted slightly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The Duke resumed eating.
Conversation ended.
But tension remained.
________________________________________
Elira's room
Christa closed the door and exhaled slowly.
Her hands were shaking.
"Okay…"
She needed rules.
Thriller stories always had patterns.
And this one definitely did.
She grabbed paper and began writing.
RULE 1: Do not follow Elira's original actions.
RULE 2: Trust no one in the mansion.
RULE 3: Observe before acting.
RULE 4: Survive past Chapter Five.
She stared at the last rule.
In the novel, Elira died in three days.
A sudden sound came from outside her window.
Metal scraping stone.
Christa froze.
Slowly, she turned.
Outside the glass—
Someone was standing on the balcony.
Watching her.
[End of the chapter 2]