The lock clicked.
Once.
Final.
Unforgiving.
Rhea's breath broke apart in her chest.
"Luca…" Her voice barely carried. "We're locked in."
He pressed his shoulder hard against the door, rattling it violently. "Open it!" he shouted.
Nothing answered him.
Not footsteps.
Not laughter.
Not even silence.
The mansion seemed to inhale.
Then the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then darkness swallowed the burned room whole.
Rhea gasped and stumbled backward, her heel catching on broken wood. She would have fallen if Luca hadn't caught her arm.
"Stay with me," he said sharply. "Don't panic."
"I'm not—" Her breath stuttered. "I just—Luca, I can't see."
"I know."
His voice softened. He reached out, finding her hand in the dark, threading their fingers together.
His palm was warm. Steady.
Too steady for a man whose past had just been dragged into the light.
The music box trembled in Rhea's other hand, still humming that warped lullaby.
"It won't stop," she whispered.
Luca cursed under his breath. "Give it to me."
"No." She clutched it instinctively. "This is Serena's."
"That's exactly why I don't want you holding it."
The melody slowed.
Stuttered.
Then stopped.
The sudden silence rang louder than the song ever had.
Rhea swallowed. "What did he mean?"
Luca didn't answer.
"Luca." Her voice shook. "He said you were here. The night she died."
Silence pressed in.
"I asked you something," she whispered.
The lights flared suddenly—dim, sickly yellow—and the room reappeared in broken pieces.
Charred walls.
Ash-coated floor.
That untouched space at the center.
Rhea stared at it now, heart pounding. "You were here."
Luca's jaw tightened. His hand fell from hers.
"I didn't kill her," he said immediately.
"That's not what I asked."
"I didn't hurt her," he continued, voice rough. "I didn't light the fire."
"Then why won't you look at me?" Rhea demanded.
He turned away.
The mansion creaked.
A deep, slow groan echoed through the ceiling—as if the building were stretching awake after years of sleep.
Rhea flinched. "What was that?"
Luca stiffened. "The house."
"The house?" She laughed weakly. "You're saying the house is…"
"Moving," he finished. "Yes."
Another sound followed—footsteps.
Not running.
Not sneaking.
Walking.
Measured and Heavy.
Above them.
Rhea's blood iced. "Someone's upstairs."
"There shouldn't be anyone on the third floor," Luca said. "Not tonight."
The footsteps paused.
Then the chandelier skeleton above them creaked, swinging slightly.
Dust drifted down like ash.
Rhea backed closer to Luca. "This house is alive tonight."
"Yes," he said quietly. "And it hasn't been awake like this since…"
He stopped himself.
"Since the fire," Rhea finished.
He nodded once.
The footsteps resumed—moving away now, dragging slowly across the ceiling.
In that instance…
A door slammed somewhere deep in the mansion.
The sound rippled outward, triggering others.
Doors.
Windows.
Panels.
One by one, the mansion stirred.
Rhea grabbed Luca's arm. "This isn't normal."
"No," he agreed. "It's not."
A siren wailed faintly outside—security alarms activating too late.
The house didn't care.
The burned room door rattled violently.
Luca braced against it again. "Whoever locked us in wanted us separated from the rest of the house."
"Or trapped," Rhea whispered.
The door suddenly swung open.
Luca nearly fell forward.
The hallway beyond was darker than it should've been—long shadows stretching unnaturally across the floor.
No guards.
No staff.
Just emptiness.
"We move," Luca said. "Now."
Rhea followed him out.
The moment they crossed the threshold, the door behind them slammed shut again.
Locked.
They didn't stop.
The mansion groaned louder now—pipes rattling, walls shifting, the echo of hurried movement somewhere distant.
"What's happening to the staff's?" Rhea asked breathlessly as they hurried down the hall.
"They've been evacuated," Luca replied. "I ordered it earlier."
"You didn't tell me that."
"I didn't want you panicking."
She almost laughed. "Little late for that."
They reached the stairwell.
Before Luca could take the first step down…
A figure stepped into view below them.
Rhea gasped.
Not the man.
A woman.
Older.
Hair pinned tight.
Her face drained of color.
"Tina?" Luca breathed.
The housekeeper.
Rhea's heart pounded. "She didn't leave."
Tina stared at them strangely, eyes unfocused—glassy.
"Tina," Luca said sharply. "What are you doing here?"
She tilted her head.
Then smiled.
Too slowly.
"He said you'd come," she murmured.
Rhea's stomach dropped. "Who said?"
"Tina," Luca warned, stepping forward, "answer me."
The woman's smile widened. "The one who remembers."
Rhea grabbed Luca's sleeve. "That's not normal."
"Tina," Luca said again, lower now. "Move aside."
The woman stepped backward obediently—into the shadows.
But her eyes stayed locked on Rhea.
"Your sister cried," she said softly. "Just like you."
Rhea snapped. "Don't talk about her!"
Tina's face twitched. Then—
Her body folded.
She collapsed like her strings were cut.
Luca rushed down, checking her pulse. "She's alive."
"Drugged?" Rhea asked.
"No," he said slowly. "Hypnotized."
Rhea's breath hitched. "That's possible?"
"Yes," Luca said grimly. "If you know how to break someone."
A slow clap echoed from somewhere above.
Luca stiffened.
The man's voice drifted down the stairwell.
"I wondered how long it would take for the house to wake up."
Rhea's chest tightened. "He's here."
Luca looked up. "Show yourself."
Footsteps descended.
The man appeared at the top of the stairs, relaxed, hands in his pockets, eyes shining with amusement.
"Tonight feels familiar, doesn't it?" he said. "The house. The fear."
Rhea snapped, "What did you do to her?"
The man smiled. "Nothing she didn't already know how to feel."
Luca stepped protectively in front of Rhea. "This ends now."
"Oh no," the man replied softly. "This is only the beginning."
The lights flickered again—then died completely.
Darkness swallowed the stairwell.
Rhea screamed as the floor vibrated beneath her feet.
The mansion shifted.
Walls groaned.
Steps trembled.
Without warning— Emergency lights flared on.
Red.
Everything bathed in crimson.
The man stood two steps closer now.
"How did you…" Luca started.
"I know this house better than you think," the man said. "After all, I helped build its secrets." Rhea's heart slammed. "You were here back then."
"Yes," he said, eyes never leaving her. "I watched Serena learn which doors not to open."
Rhea snapped, "You stalked her."
"I protected her."
"That's a lie!"
"She disagreed," the man replied calmly.
Luca growled. "Enough."
The man's gaze slid to Luca. "You left her alone that night."
Rhea's breath caught.
"What night?" she whispered.
"The night of the fire," the man said. "You promised you wouldn't."
Luca's fingers dug into his palms.
Rhea turned slowly toward him. "You promised her?"
He didn't answer.
The man smiled. "He always breaks promises when fear is involved."
Rhea's chest ached. "Luca…"
He finally looked at her.
"I came back," he said hoarsely. "I was coming back for her."
"But you weren't here," she whispered.
"No."
The man leaned closer. "And when he returned… it was already burning."
Rhea felt sick.
The house groaned again—louder this time.
From every direction, footsteps began to echo.
Not one.
Many.
Rhea whispered, "Tell me I'm imagining that."
"You're not," Luca said grimly.
The man spread his arms. "The mansion remembers," he said. "Every scream. Every lie."
Rhea backed away. "What do you want?"
The man's gaze softened—almost gentle—as it landed on her.
"You."
Luca snapped, "You don't touch her."
"I already have," the man replied. "Through memory. Through fear."
Rhea shook her head. "You're dangerous."
"No," he said. "I'm patient."
The lights suddenly surged—
And every door along the hallway flew open at once.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
The sound thundered through the mansion.
Rhea screamed as shadows spilled from each doorway—moving, watching, breathing.
The house wasn't just awake.
It was hungry.
The man stepped backward into the darkness.
"Enjoy the night," he said lightly. "The house has so much to tell you."
"Stop him!" Rhea cried.
Luca lunged…
—but the shadows swallowed the man whole.
Gone.
The doors slammed shut again.
Silence crashed down.
Rhea collapsed against the wall, shaking.
Luca caught her instantly, pulling her into his chest.
She clutched his shirt, voice breaking. "This house is trying to kill us."
"No," he whispered tightly. "It's trying to make us remember."
Rhea looked up at him, tears burning. "Then tell me the truth."
He swallowed.
"I will," he said quietly. "But not tonight."
"Why not?"
Because… before he could answer—
A phone buzzed in his pocket.
He stiffened.
Slowly, he pulled it out.
Rhea watched his face drain of color.
"What is it?" she whispered.
He turned the screen toward her.
A live video feed.
From inside the mansion.
From her room.
Someone was standing there.
Touching her things.
And the caption beneath the video read:
SHE SLEEPS WHERE IT STARTED.
Rhea's breath shattered.