Chapter Five

The following morning, Sarah awoke to a pale light seeping through the heavy curtains. The events of the previous night played on a loop in her mind—Marco's cold command, Adrian's chilling proximity, and the mysterious figure in the garden. It all seemed like a fever dream, but the crumpled note hidden under her pillow told her otherwise.

Pushing the tangled sheets aside, she padded over to the window, her eyes immediately drawn to the spot where she had seen the shadowy figure. The garden was empty now, the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming roses showing no sign of the midnight visitor. But the image was burned into her memory—a fleeting glimpse of something, or someone, that could be her way out.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Before she could respond, the door opened, and Sofia entered, her face as unreadable as ever.

"Good morning, Miss Sarah," Sofia said, her tone polite yet distant. She carried a tray with breakfast, the smell of fresh bread and coffee wafting through the room.

Sarah forced a smile, though her mind was elsewhere. "Good morning, Sofia."

Sofia placed the tray on the small table by the window, her movements precise and practiced. But as she straightened up, Sarah noticed a flicker of something in the maid's eyes—hesitation, perhaps, or maybe worry.

"Sofia," Sarah began, her voice low, "about last night…"

Sofia's gaze flicked to the door, her body tensing slightly. "What about it, Miss Sarah?"

Sarah hesitated, unsure how much she could trust Sofia. But the note in her pocket urged her to take a leap of faith. "I saw someone in the garden. I think they were trying to send me a message."

For a moment, Sofia's mask slipped, her eyes widening ever so slightly before she quickly regained her composure. "You must be mistaken," she replied, her tone too smooth, too practiced. "No one is allowed in the gardens after dark."

Sarah narrowed her eyes, watching Sofia closely. "But I know what I saw, Sofia. Please, if you know something, if you can help me… I need to know."

The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. Sofia's eyes darted to the door again, as if fearing they were being watched. Finally, she took a small step closer to Sarah, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Be careful, Miss Sarah," Sofia warned, her tone laced with genuine concern. "There are things in this house that are better left alone."

Before Sarah could press her further, Sofia turned and quickly exited the room, leaving Sarah with more questions than answers. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound echoing ominously in the quiet room.

Sarah sank into the chair by the window, her thoughts racing. Sofia's reaction only confirmed her suspicions—something was happening within the walls of this mansion, something hidden beneath the surface of luxury and control. And whatever it was, Sofia knew more than she was letting on.

As she nibbled on a piece of bread, Sarah's mind churned with possibilities. Could Sofia be the one who had slipped the note under her door? Or was it someone else entirely, someone who had a vested interest in keeping her here, but also in giving her hope?

The day dragged on, each hour marked by the slow movement of shadows across the room. Sarah spent most of it by the window, watching the garden below for any sign of the mysterious figure. But the grounds remained empty, the only movement the gentle sway of the trees in the breeze.

It wasn't until the afternoon that something finally happened. She was dozing lightly in the chair when the sound of footsteps outside her door jolted her awake. Heart pounding, she crept closer, pressing her ear to the wood.

Two voices, muffled but clear enough, floated through the door. One belonged to Marco, his deep tones unmistakable. The other was unfamiliar, softer, with a hint of nervousness.

"Lord DeLuca doesn't tolerate mistakes," Marco was saying, his voice laced with menace. "You know what happens to those who disappoint him."

The other voice stammered out a reply, too quiet for Sarah to make out. There was a pause, then Marco spoke again, his tone low and threatening. "Good. Remember your place."

The footsteps retreated, leaving Sarah standing there, her heart racing. She backed away from the door, her mind buzzing with what she had overheard. Whoever had been speaking with Marco was clearly afraid—afraid of Adrian, and possibly afraid of what might happen if they crossed him.

As the afternoon light began to fade, Sarah knew she had to act. She couldn't wait any longer, not when the pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together. She had to find out who was behind the note, who was trying to reach out to her in this place of shadows and secrets.

Just as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, a soft tap sounded at her window. Sarah's breath hitched as she turned and saw a small stone bounce off the glass, followed by the shadow of a figure below.