CHAPTER ONE

The drive to the upcountry was long but tinged with excitement. Aila, born and raised along the sun-drenched coast of Saminla, was accustomed to golden shores and humid breezes. The shift from the beach's carefree rhythm to the moody yet mesmerizing countryside was jarring, but she supposed she'd have to get used to it-after all, this estate would be her home for the next year.

Not that she had much of a choice.

Still, she chose to see it as a symbolic farewell to her teenage years. What better way to step into her twenties than with a drastic change of scenery?

Her thoughts drifted, settling into the soft lull of a lullaby her mother used to sing when she was a child. Oh, how she longed to go back-to a time before the distance, before the words they couldn't take back. She loved her mother, yet the years had stretched them apart, each argument widening the space between them. Regret settled heavy in her chest. She wished she had been gentler, more understanding.

Maybe time apart would soften the edges between them. Maybe distance would help them see each other differently.

She turned her gaze to the window as the road stretched endlessly ahead, winding through rolling hills draped in a veil of fog. Tiny droplets clung to the glass, tracing lazy paths downward, their movement slow and hypnotic. Aila exhaled, watching as her breath fogged up the window, blurring the world outside into a soft haze.

The drizzle outside was light but persistent, tapping gently against the car roof-a rhythmic lull that made the journey feel almost dreamlike. The once-vivid landscape of the coast had given way to towering trees, their dark silhouettes standing solemnly against the grey sky. Everything felt muted, hushed, as if the world itself had settled into quiet contemplation.

In the front seat, her mother drove in silence, hands firm on the wheel. The glow of the dashboard flickered against her face, highlighting the faint tension in her jaw. Aila watched her for a moment, wondering what she was thinking. Wondering if she, too, felt the weight of all that had been left unsaid.

She leaned her forehead against the cold window and closed her eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, things would be different when she returned.

~

Aila's slumber was rudely interrupted by a sharp jab to her side. She groaned, cracking one eye open to see her brother grinning beside her, clearly up to no good.

"You hit me with your elbow, you nitwit!" she snapped.

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh," she shot back, jabbing him in the chest for good measure.

"Keep your sharp elbows away from my body!" he huffed, rubbing the spot where she'd struck him.

So much for a good nap.

Aila sighed, stretching as she took in the dimming sky. The air inside the car had grown colder, and tiny droplets still clung to the window, distorting the passing scenery.

"You woke up just in time," her mother said from the front. "We're almost there."

Aila perked up at that. Her aunt's place.

Oh, how she had missed her. Her aunt was nothing like her mother-where her mother was cautious and measured, her aunt was free-spirited and unafraid to bend the rules. Aila had always admired that about her. But ever since her father disappeared, something had shifted. Tension crept into the spaces where warmth used to be, and the once-close bond between her mother and aunt slowly unravelled

Whatever had caused the distance, Aila chose not to dwell on it. She was just grateful for this chance-to be with her aunt again, to start fresh.

~

The long black gates groaned as they creaked open, vines twisting through the iron bars like nature's own lock and key. Beyond them, the driveway stretched ahead, shrouded beneath a canopy of towering trees. Their branches arched overhead, casting shifting shadows in the glow of the headlights.

As they inched forward, the house slowly revealed itself from the darkness.

No-the mansion.

It had an old Victorian elegance, the kind that whispered, I might be haunted, but at least I'm beautiful. Its stone façade stood solemn against the night, ivy creeping up its sides like ghostly fingers. The grand windows were dark and watchful, the flickering light from inside barely visible against the rain-drenched glass.

The headlights landed on the massive front door, where Ailas aunt stood waiting, wrapped in a burgundy cardigan. The soft silver of her hair shimmered under the light, and even from a distance, I could make out the warmth in her smile.

Memories of her were hazy, blurred at the edges like a half-forgotten dream. She had visited us from time to time when I was younger, always taking us out for treats, her presence as fleeting as a passing season. The face I once knew-youthful and lively-had been kissed by time, now etched with delicate smile lines, proof of just how often she had laughed and grinned through the years.

As soon as I stepped out of the car, I wrapped my arms around her, holding on tightly.

She smelled of cherry blossoms-soft, floral, and oddly familiar. A sudden wave of self-consciousness hit me. Six hours cooped up in a car, and I could only hope I didn't reek of exhaustion and stale air.

"Aila, my love, you've grown into such an elegant young woman," my aunt chuckled, pulling back to look at me properly. "I'm so glad you'll be staying with me for a year-I have so much planned for us."

She then turned to my brother with a teasing glint in her eyes. "And Jace, are you still as mischievous as ever?"

Her laughter was warm, wrapping around us like a cup of cocoa on a winter evening-familiar, comforting, home.

"Your cousin Alex is quite busy with university," she continued, "so he couldn't be here to welcome you, but he sends his regards. He'll be joining us tomorrow-along with a few of his friends."

Alex. My best friend.

I hadn't seen him in years, but the memories came rushing back-his quick wit, his easygoing nature, the countless adventures we had as kids. I wondered if he still remembered our secret handshake. Would things still be the same between us, or had time reshaped him into someone unrecognizable?

My mother and brother didn't linger for long. After exchanging brief goodbyes, Jace left for my grandmother's house-where he was sure to be spoiled endlessly-while my mother prepared for her early flight abroad the next day.

With a final wave, they disappeared into the night, leaving me standing at the threshold of this new chapter.

We stepped inside, and my breath hitched.

The grand chandelier in the foyer glowed like a constellation, its crystal droplets refracting light in every direction. The polished floors gleamed beneath it, so pristine I could see my own reflection. The space felt endless, light bouncing off the high ceilings and mirrored surfaces, making the room shimmer like the inside of a kaleidoscope.

And the staircase-it was something out of a royal estate. Splitting into two at the landing, the black-carpeted steps curved elegantly downward, their gold-accented railings adding a touch of quiet opulence.

I had known my aunt was wealthy, but standing here, it became clear-calling her rich was an understatement.

After her husband passed away, his entire estate had been left to her, though no one ever spoke about just how much that entailed. Judging by the house alone, the numbers were beyond what I could even fathom.

I was still taking it all in when my aunt gently took my hand and led me upstairs.

And then I saw my room.

I kid you not-the room was double the size of our apartment

"I hope you like it," Aunt Liz said, watching me carefully.

I turned to her with wide eyes. "Oh, Aunt Liz, I love it! It's... big, but I love it."

She smiled knowingly, squeezing my shoulder. "Take your time settling in, darling. This is your home now."

After settling into her new room, Aila's aunt urged her to freshen up before dinner. She agreed, grateful for the moment alone.

The shower was warm, washing away the stiffness from the long journey. As the steam curled around her, she let herself unwind, allowing the reality of this place to finally sink in. A year here. It still felt surreal.

Slipping into a pair of soft silk pajamas, she made her way downstairs, her bare feet barely making a sound against the cool marble floor.

The dining room was nothing short of elegant-too elegant.

A grand chandelier hung overhead, casting a golden glow against the deep mahogany walls. The long table, polished to perfection, stretched across the room, but only two places were set at one end. The rest of the seats stood untouched, their emptiness adding a strange sort of hollowness to the space.

It felt almost... lonely.

At home, she was used to eating alone in her room, away from the noise of the living room. But here, the silence was different. Not isolating, but expectant-like the house was waiting for something to fill it.

Her aunt sat at the head of the table, pouring a glass of wine. "Come, sit, love. You must be starving."

Aila took a seat, offering a small smile as a plate of roasted lamb and vegetables was placed before her.

As they ate, her aunt began talking about her recent travels-stories of bustling streets in Paris, the serene canals of Venice, and the towering peaks of the Swiss Alps. Aila found herself completely captivated, hanging onto every word, imagining the places through her aunt's eyes.

But then-mid sentence-her aunt's voice faltered.

Her smile faded.

For a fleeting second, her eyes seemed distant, unfocused. Then, just as quickly, she pushed her chair back and stood.

"Excuse me, darling. I just remembered something I need to take care of."

Aila blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in mood. She expected her aunt to return after a few minutes, but the longer she sat there, the clearer it became-she wasn't coming back.

She hesitated before finishing the rest of her meal, unsure if she should wait. Eventually, she rose to clear her plate, but before she could, a housekeeper stepped in.

"You don't have to do that, Miss Aila. I'll take care of it," she said kindly.

Aila hesitated. "Oh... thank you. Maya, right?"

The woman nodded with a polite smile.

Still puzzled by her aunt's abrupt departure, Aila returned to her room, shaking off the feeling. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she had just remembered an urgent call or a forgotten appointment.

Lying on her bed, she let her mind drift to the year ahead-the possibilities, the adventures waiting for her.

But as sleep pulled her under, the last thing she saw wasn't adventure or new beginnings.

It was the flicker of something unreadable in her aunt's eyes