Chapter 3: Whispers Of The Past.

The misty dawn of the following morning woke Katherine the village of Downtown scarce visible through the fog. It lent an eerie stillness to the Beaulieu estate, as if the world outside was pausing. She got quickly dressed, flipping a thick cardigan onto her blouse for guard against chill, and went downstairs to the archives.

The chillness in the room, the musty scent of aged paper sharper in the damp air-cold atmosphere, probably reached a higher level than usual. Katherine set her notebook on the desk, determined to piece together more of the fragmented story.

She began to catalog the letters she found by laying them in chronological order according to the date scribbles in the corner of the paper. Many were missing to create frustrating skips in the tale.

But what she did have painted a better picture: Celeste had been enslaved on the estate during the early 1800s. Her letters, while unsigned, read as if to a man who shared her feelings, a man who promised her freedom even as the walls of her captivity grew tighter.

One line in the most recent letter stuck in Katherine mind:

"If they find out about us, there will be no escape—not for me, not for you."

Who had "they" been? And what had happened to Celeste and him she wrote to?

As morning wore on, Katherine listened to footsteps coming down the hall from the exit of the archive; the next minute he showed up against the doorway, seeming his usual manner of reserved.

"I knew I'd find you here," he said.

"I've been working my way through all these letters," Katherine repeated, holding up one. "It's fascinating, really; instead, it raises more questions than gets any answers for us.

Lucien stepped in, his eyes scanning the rows of shelves as if they held memories he'd rather forget. "Some questions are better left unanswered.".

Katherine frowned. "But isn't that the point of history? To understand, even when it's uncomfortable?

Lucien sighed, leaning against the edge of the desk. "You don't understand what this place is like. The Beaulieu name carries weight in Downtown. People don't forget, and they certainly don't forgive.

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated, then said, "The estate wasn't just a home; it was a symbol of power. And that power came with its price. My family's past is. complicated."

"Complicated how?"

Lucien's gaze dropped to her, his jaw working. "You're better off focusing on the archives, not the whispers of a village that never lets go of old grudges.

It was his words that fed her curiosity. "Lucien, if there is something you know about Celeste or the history of the estate, I want to help. Maybe understanding the truth can bring some kind of. closure.".

Lucien's face gentled, but he shook his head. "Closure isn't always possible, Katherine. Just-be careful. This isn't some storybook where everything gets tied up in a bow at the end.

Saying that, he was gone, leaving Katherine to her thoughts.

Through the afternoon, the rain set in with that rain misty-like and pattered softly against the windows, blurring out the views across the gardens. Katherine had seen enough of the archives for the moment and decided to take a walk over the grounds of the estate.

She strolled with the wet scent of earth and flowers hanging heavily in the air as she wandered the gardens. Some of the grime had been washed off the stone pathways, showing an intricately carved pattern beneath. Katherine ran her fingers over one such design, wondering how long it had lain there-what stories it might hold.

It was a meandering exploration that finally brought her to the edge of the woods. Nestled behind the trees, a chapel was standing, its roof half caved in and its stone walls overgrown with moss. Katherine wavered for a moment, then looked back at the house, but curiosity got the better of her.

Inside, the chapel was thick with damp and the smell of rot. The pews were splintered, lying every which way over the floor, and shards of colored glass from the stained glass windows strewed the floor, their brilliance dulled by a layer of dirt.

As Katherine approached the altar, she saw something very strange: a small chest, locked and tucked away beneath a loose stone. Her heart quickened as she pulled it out, brushing away years of dust and cobwebs.

The lock was rusty and fragile; it didn't take much effort to break it open. Inside, she found a stack of papers, yellowed with age but mostly intact.

The first page was a birth certificate. Katherine breath seemed to catch at the sight of names:

Mother's Name: Celeste

Child: unnamed The rest of the papers, she flipped through, her hands shaking. A tale of survival was told: Celeste had given birth in secret, and someone had tried to protect her and the child. Yet the details were incomplete, and what exactly happened to Celeste and her baby was not clear. Katherine sat back on her heels, the discovery weighing heavily upon her. Celeste hadn't merely been a victim of the estate's dark history; she was a mother, fighting for her child against impossible odds. By the time Katherine returned to the house, the rain had stopped and streaks of warm color from the sunset striped it; Lucien sat in his study, staring out of the window with a whiskey glass in his hand. "I found something," she said, entering. Lucien turned; his face was impassive. "What is it?" She held up the papers. "Proof that Celeste bore a child. And that child could have descendants still living in Downtown." Lucien's face darkened. He set his glass down and took the papers from her, scanning them quickly. "This. changes things," he said in hushed tones. "Exactly,"Katherine replied. "It means there's more to the story-something worth uncovering." Lucien looked at her, his eyes filled with something that she couldn't quite name. "Do you have any idea what this is you're stepping into? If word of this gets out, it could tear the village apart. "Or it could bring healing," Katherine replied. "Don't you think it's time the truth sees the light of day? Lucien said nothing for a very, very long time. Then, finally, he nodded. "If you're determined to see this through, then I'll help you. But let me tell you this: once we start, there's no going back."Katherine met his gaze, her eyes alight with a spark of determination. "I'm not going back." And in that moment, the path ahead was crystal clear: together, they would unravel the truth, no matter what it takes.