THINGS BETTER LEFT UNSPOKEN

The garden was quiet—almost unnaturally so.

Velma walked slowly along the stone path, her hand brushing the tall lavender stems that swayed gently in the afternoon breeze. A few butterflies flitted lazily over the blooms, and the sunlight danced in golden streaks across the hedges. The stillness should have comforted her. But it didn't.

Not after that sound.

Not after the way Mrs. Williams had touched her shoulder—and then looked at her.

Not after the dream.

She reached the wooden bench tucked beneath the old jacaranda tree and sat down, staring at nothing in particular. Her thoughts tangled and untangled in slow circles.

What was it she had heard behind the wall?

Was she really imagining it?

Velma leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, rubbing her temples lightly. Her headache was beginning to return. She hadn't even realized it had gone until now.

"Peaceful, isn't it?" a voice said gently behind her.

She turned.

Lucian stood a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his green suit trousers. The smile on his face was polite but thin—restrained, like a man used to weighing every word.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he added, stepping closer. "I was just heading out. Daniel's still upstairs, but I wanted to say goodbye."

Velma stood and offered a slight nod. "It's fine. I needed the air."

Lucian looked around at the hedges and flowerbeds. "He did a good job maintaining this place. The grounds haven't looked this peaceful in years."

Velma tilted her head. "You've been here before?"

Lucian gave a light chuckle. "Oh yes. Back when it was still being renovated. It looked very different then."

She hesitated before asking, "Did you help him build it?"

"I helped where I could," he replied. "But this—this is Daniel's kingdom."

The way he said it made her shiver. Kingdom?

"I'm glad he finally brought someone into it," Lucian went on. "He was always... guarded. Kept people at a distance."

Velma tried to read his expression, but he gave nothing away.

"Well," she said carefully, "maybe he was just waiting for the right time."

Lucian smiled again, though this time it didn't quite touch his eyes.

"Perhaps," he murmured. "Or maybe he was protecting you."

Her brow furrowed. "From what?"

Lucian's gaze lingered on hers, long enough to make her stomach tighten.

"Never mind," he said, shaking his head. "It's not my place."

"No—please," Velma said, stepping forward. "If there's something I should know—"

"There's a difference," Lucian cut in softly, "between what you should know and what you're ready to know."

Velma's spine stiffened. "That sounds ominous."

He looked at her closely. "Would you still love someone if you found out they weren't who you thought they were?"

The question hit her like cold water.

"What are you trying to say?"

Lucian took a slow breath, then looked away. "Nothing direct. I've known Daniel a long time. Longer than most. And I've seen things change around him. People. Places. Even the air."

Velma blinked, confused. "What do you mean 'the air'?"

He turned back toward her, his voice softer. "Some houses remember. Some rooms hold onto what happens in them—especially when secrets go unspoken for too long."

Velma's throat tightened. "You're speaking in riddles, Mr. Lucian."

"I'm trying not to," he replied. "But you're new here, and Daniel is... complicated."

"I know him," she insisted.

Lucian's expression didn't change. "Of course. But the question is, do you know everything that matters?"

Velma stepped back slightly. The garden no longer felt peaceful. The silence was too deep, the shadows too long.

"I think you should go," she said.

Lucian gave a short nod. "I plan to. But Velma—just one more thing."

She didn't respond.

"If you ever hear something in this house," he continued, "something that doesn't make sense—don't assume you imagined it."

She stared at him.

"Not everything here wants to stay hidden," he said quietly. "Some things are waiting."

Her fingers clenched at her side. "Waiting for what?"

Lucian tilted his head. "You'll understand, eventually. Just... remember I said that."

With a small nod of farewell, he turned and walked down the gravel path, leaving Velma standing beneath the jacaranda tree, heart pounding.

The wind picked up again, rustling the leaves above her.

She glanced toward the house. Its windows glinted in the sun, calm and ordinary on the outside—but now she couldn't help but wonder what really lay behind those walls.

---

Inside the house, Daniel stood by the window, towel still draped around his neck from his shower. He had watched Lucian from the upstairs study, had seen the way he stopped by Velma in the garden.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

He hated when Lucian started talking like that.

But he trusted Velma.

Didn't he?

---

Back in the garden, Velma took a long breath and returned to the bench. She sat down slowly, her mind whirling with what Lucian had said.

Do you still love someone once you find out they're not who you thought they were?

She didn't know the answer. Not yet.

But she did know this:

Something was wrong with this house.

And she was going to find out what it was.

Even if Daniel was hiding it from her.