CHAPTER 16

SYDNEY

I eventually made it back to my room. It wasn't easy, not with my teary eyes and racing mind. The weight of everything crashed into me, leaving me unable to form a single thought that wasn't tangled with my father. With Tessa. With Jason.

Jason.

The name sent a fresh wave of anguish through me, curling deep in my stomach like a sickness. If there had been any lingering doubt before, there was none now. Jason was my brother. Jason was my blood.

We would never be together.

We were doomed from the start.

A tremor passed through me as I staggered to the bed, gripping my arms as if that would hold me together. It sickened me to think of how I had felt for him. How I had looked at him. What if I had kissed him? Would that have been incest? The thought made my stomach churn violently.

I clenched my fists, pressing them against my forehead.

All those nights spent dreaming about him. About us. I had imagined our future in such vivid detail. Two kids—one boy, one girl. I'd never given them names, but I didn't have to wonder what they would look like. Jason and I looked so much alike that picturing them had always been easy. I would be a lawyer, he, a psychologist. He would tease me about how stubborn I was, and I would roll my eyes when he overanalyzed my every move.

It had been a beautiful dream.

But that's all it would ever be. A dream.

A maid brought me breakfast the next morning. The tray was neatly arranged, my stomach twisting at the sight of Akara and custard. I hated custard. Hated the texture, the taste. But I had always told my father I loved it. That's how much I had wanted his approval. And he still remembered.

A sad smile tugged at my lips as I forced myself to eat the milky custard, swallowing each spoonful like it was punishment. When I finally finished, I rewarded myself with the crispy akara, savoring its crunch. It reminded me of simpler times. So much more simple times.

I turned on the shower and lingered behind the bathroom door, retracing my steps from the night before. I knew the maid would return soon. As expected, she entered a few minutes later, pausing just long enough to glance toward the bathroom before gathering the tray.

The moment she turned away, I slipped out of the room.

This time, I had a plan.

The hallway stretched before me, eerily silent. The white slippers muffled my footsteps as I retraced my path from the night before. My outfit—a simple purple t-shirt with black joggers—clung to my skin, the damp fabric of my washed underwear pressing against me like a reminder of just how much had changed in the last few days.

I reached the office where I had found my phone. If my father had kept it here, then maybe—just maybe—I could find other important information.

Answers.

I needed them. Desperately.

I started with the desk. Drawers. Cabinets. Even the surface itself. But nothing stood out. Nothing screamed Tenebris. Nothing felt connected to me.

Then I saw it.

A key.

To anyone else, it might have seemed like an ordinary key, albeit extravagantly crafted. But I knew better. The shape was unmistakable—it was carved into the symbol of Tenebris. My fingers tightened around it, my pulse quickening.

My father was hiding something.

A new wave of urgency crashed over me as I searched, scanning the room with renewed determination. If this was a safe key, then where was the safe?

I found it faster than I expected.

Tucked neatly between books on a shelf, a small silver safe glinted under the light. My heart pounded as I inserted the key. I twisted. A soft beep. Then another.

The door clicked open.

Inside, five folders sat, stacked neatly on top of each other. My breath hitched as my eyes landed on the very first one.

A blue folder.

With my name on it.

I swallowed hard, pressing it to my chest. Blue. My favorite color. So the silk nightgown hadn't been a coincidence after all.

I slowly set it aside, my gaze shifting to the other folders. Red. Green. Purple. Gold. And black.

My heart clenched. If red was Jason's—his favorite color—then the black folder could only belong to one person. Agatha. My mother.

I should have reached for it first. If I truly wanted answers, I should have started there. But I hesitated.

What if I wasn't ready to know?

So instead, I grabbed Jason's folder.

His name was boldly written across the front. I traced my fingers over it, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. Even now, he had that effect on me.

I opened it.

The first thing inside was a picture. Jason as a child. He had three missing teeth, his grin wide and unabashed. Tessa held him on her hip, her arms wrapped securely around him despite the fact that he looked far too old to be carried. He was so skinny.

But he looked happy.

I let out a quiet laugh, the sound catching in my throat. Jason would cringe if he knew I was looking at these.

Beneath the picture was a document. Hospital records. My eyes darted across the page, scanning quickly—too quickly. My breath hitched.

There.

Something I hadn't known before.

Something I wasn't supposed to know.

And then—I heard it.

A sharp inhale.

Not mine.

Someone else's.

I froze.

Slowly, I turned around, my heart hammering violently against my ribs. My mind raced through every possibility. If it was Tessa, or Gabriel, or even the beautiful woman from before—I was doomed.

But it wasn't any of them.

It was Jason.

Standing in the doorway.

Green eyes locked onto mine, filled with something I couldn't quite place. Shock. Confusion.

And something else.

Something deeper.

The folder slipped from my hands, the papers scattering across the floor. Neither of us moved.

Neither of us spoke.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating, thick with unspoken truths.

I had thought about him so much, obsessed over our doomed future so deeply, and yet—

Here he was.

Like a curse summoned by my own thoughts.

Speak of the devil, and he appears.