Betrayal in the Library

The library had always been Amara's favorite room in the manor—quiet, full of ancient whispers, the scent of aged paper, and the comfort of stories written long before her pain began. But tonight, it felt different. Colder. As though the very walls knew the betrayal that was about to unfold.

She clutched the small iron key Madam Ijeoma had given her. It had taken hours of careful searching in the cellar, a place that reeked of mildew and hidden history, but she'd finally uncovered an old metal trunk. Inside were fragments of her mother's life—burnt edges of photos, audio tapes, a half-torn diary, and a newspaper article with two names circled in red ink. One of them was her father's. The other made her blood run cold: Cornelius Hart.

Eli's father.

So it was true.

Everything Madam Ijeoma had hinted at, everything that had haunted her since her return—Amara now held the proof in her hands.

But she needed more.

Eli had been quiet since that night she stormed out of his room. The storm outside had calmed, but the one inside the manor hadn't. He'd become distant again, reserved, locked away behind those haunted eyes. She couldn't blame him. She'd ripped open wounds that time had failed to seal.

Amara returned to the library with the tapes and diary, determined to dig further. A journal note had mentioned a hidden drawer behind the bookshelves. She scanned the spines carefully—rows and rows of leatherbound volumes. Then she saw it. One book slightly shorter than the rest. Not old. Not worn. A plant was strategically placed in front of it, as if someone had tried to hide it.

She tugged the book. A click. The shelf shifted slightly. Heart racing, she leaned her weight into it and the panel slid aside, revealing a narrow space. Inside was a wooden box, the symbol of a rose etched on the lid. Her mother's handwriting, carved in swirls along the edges.

She reached for it—

"What are you doing?"

The voice came from behind.

Amara spun around, her breath catching. It was Caleb.

He stepped into the room, arms crossed. "You shouldn't be here."

"I could say the same about you," she replied, narrowing her eyes.

Caleb glanced at the open panel, then at the box in her hand. "Is that what I think it is?"

"You knew?" Her voice was a tremble of disbelief.

Caleb hesitated. "I knew your mother suspected something. I didn't know she had left evidence."

Amara looked at him with fresh eyes. "You were close to her, weren't you?"

He didn't answer, which was an answer in itself.

"You've been watching me. Guiding me—but never really helping. Why?"

"I was trying to protect you," he said quickly. "I work for someone who... didn't want you involved. I tried to stay close in case things got out of control."

"Who?" Amara asked, stepping back. "Who do you work for?"

His silence screamed volumes.

"You betrayed me," she whispered.

"It's not what you think. Your mother... she made enemies. Powerful ones. I was trying to keep them away from you."

"I don't believe you," Amara said, her fingers tightening around the box. "You were there the night the study was unlocked. You warned me not to get too close to Eli. You've been trying to mislead me since the beginning."

"Amara, please—"

"Get out," she snapped.

He hesitated.

"GET OUT!"

He did.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Amara locked the panel again and sank into the leather chair beside the fireplace. The box sat on her lap like a bomb. Her hands trembled as she opened it.

Inside: a memory card, several photographs, a hand-written letter addressed to my darling daughter, and a small cassette labeled simply: "For Eli."

Her heart thundered.

Everything was changing.

And it was about to get worse before it got better.