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Scarlett's Play House
Step right up, but be warned: this carnival takes more than just your money.

Scarlett, a red-haired wisp with eyes like storm clouds, craved the macabre. Abandoned long ago by her parents, the thrill of fear was a twisted comfort. The Carnival Hook Up, a twisted celebration of horror and desire, was her stage. But her performance soon became a terrifying reality.

Blue roses, an unsettling calling card, began appearing. Her mentor and childhood friend, James, the charismatic king of the after-hours exotic stage, claimed innocence. Grayson, the carnival's enigmatic CEO, observed her from the shadows, his silence more menacing than any scream. Her protective older brothers, Everest, the hotel magnate, and Nevada, the soccer star turned streamer, sensed the danger lurking. Even Savannah, her twin, a doctor accustomed to life and death, was unnerved.

Two years of unease culminated in a terrifying home invasion. No longer the naive actress, Scarlett was ready. She lunged, tearing away the Ghostface mask, the reveal plunging her into a nightmare far more intimate and twisted than any carnival act. The horror she sought had finally found her and its name was Grayson.

Scarlett's Play House

By the time the café staff began wiping down tables and turning chairs upside down, Elias and I were still glued to our screens. My eyes were dry and burning, but I didn't dare blink too long. Every digital thread we followed felt like it might unravel something huge — if we tugged hard enough.

"Wait," I said, pointing to a tab he almost closed. "Go back."

Elias did, and we stared at the application form pulled from a private arts academy database in Vermont. The name listed wasn't Aster Grayson… but it was close.

"Ana Starling" — sixteen years old. Pale skin. Black hair. Grey eyes. No parental info. Guardian listed as a Ms. Celeste Halden, an employee at a long-term mental wellness retreat nearby.

Elias raised an eyebrow. "Starling? Aster? That's a stretch—"

"Not for Grayson," I cut in. "He loves his little games. Wordplay. Disguises. Ana Starling? That's just an anagram of A. Star… 'Aster.' And look — grey eyes. That's a Grayson trait."

He nodded slowly, clicking deeper into the files. "And look at this. Celeste Halden — she used to work at one of Grayson's older research and tech centers before it was shut down. She vanished from the public eye around the same time Lillian disappeared."

"Nope," he said, dragging the files into a secure folder. "And the girl's birthday? Matches perfectly with the birth certificate."

My heart thundered in my chest. "We found her."

"Maybe," Elias cautioned. "But we need proof. And if she is there, we have to be careful. If Grayson even senses we're close to her…"

"He'll vanish her. Just like her mom."

We sat in silence for a moment, letting that settle. Then I straightened. "I need to go there. See her. Make sure."

Elias looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "You can't just waltz into a secluded arts school connected to a mental wellness retreat. There's security. Background checks. And if she's under protection from Grayson's people—"

"Then I blend in," I said, already reaching for my phone. "I'm an actress, remember?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You're serious."

"Dead serious. If that's really her, if she's really alive… we owe it to her to try."

Elias sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're going to get us killed."

I smiled slightly. "Not if we stay one step ahead."

He groaned. "I'll start setting up aliases and travel plans. You still have that burner phone?"

He closed his laptop and leaned in. "If we do this, Scarlett, there's no going back."

"We're not chasing shadows anymore. We're about to crash into whatever hell Grayson's been hiding."

"Then let's bring the match," I whispered.

Chapter 53