Elara's POV
I couldn't breathe.
The threatening phone call kept replaying in my head. Stay away from Thornwood Manor, or what happened to your parents will happen to you.
My parents burned to death. I was seventeen when I watched the flames eat our home, heard their screams, smelled the smoke. And now someone was threatening to do the same thing to me.
I grabbed my phone to call the police, but stopped. What would I say? A lawyer offered me an inheritance and someone called to threaten me? They'd think I was crazy. Especially after what happened with Marcus—the police already thought I was a liar.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Someone knocked on my door again. I jumped so hard I dropped my phone.
"Miss Thornwood, it's Thomas Greyson. Please, I need to speak with you."
The lawyer. He'd left less than five minutes ago. Why was he back?
I cracked open the door, keeping the chain lock on. "Did you have someone call and threaten me?"
His eyes widened with what looked like real concern. "Someone threatened you? Just now?"
"Right after you left. They said to stay away from the manor or I'd end up like my parents."
Thomas's face went pale. He glanced down the hallway nervously. "Miss Thornwood, please let me in. Quickly. We're not safe out here."
Something in his voice made me believe him. I unhooked the chain and he rushed inside, immediately going to my window and pulling the curtains shut.
"What's going on?" My voice came out higher than I wanted.
"They know I found you." He ran a hand through his gray hair. "I was careful, but clearly not careful enough."
"Who are they?"
Thomas turned to face me. For the first time, he looked old and tired. "The people who want Thornwood Manor for themselves. The same people who've been searching for you for ten years."
My knees felt weak. I sat down hard on my couch. "Why? What's so special about the manor?"
"I can't explain everything here. It's not safe. But I can tell you this—your parents didn't die in an accident, Elara. They were murdered."
The room tilted. "What?"
"The fire was set deliberately. Your parents were trying to protect you. They died keeping you safe." His voice was gentle but firm. "And now that you've turned twenty-seven, you've inherited what they protected. Which means you're in danger."
I wanted to scream at him to stop lying, but something deep in my gut told me he was telling the truth. I'd always felt wrong about that fire. Too convenient. Too complete.
"If I'm in so much danger, why did you find me? Why not let me stay hidden?"
"Because the alternative is worse." Thomas sat down across from me. "On your twenty-seventh birthday, the legal protections your mother put in place expired. With or without my help, they would have found you eventually. At least this way, you have a choice."
"Some choice," I muttered. "Get threatened and probably killed, or stay here and get evicted."
"Actually, there's more I need to tell you." He pulled out another document from his jacket. "The trust fund I mentioned? It's £750,000, not £500,000. I lowballed the number earlier to avoid overwhelming you."
I stared at him. Three-quarters of a million pounds. I couldn't even imagine that much money.
"If you agree to return to Thornwood Manor and stay for thirty days, the money is yours immediately. All your debts cleared. A fresh start. Everything."
It sounded too good to be true. "What's the catch?"
"The catch is that Thornwood Manor isn't just a house. It's a responsibility. A legacy. And accepting it means accepting everything that comes with it." He leaned forward. "I can't tell you more until you're there. Your mother's instructions were very specific."
"And if I say no?"
"Then you sign papers giving up all claim to the estate. The manor passes to your next living relative, and you walk away with nothing. You're on your own against whoever just threatened you."
My heart pounded. This was insane. All of it. But what choice did I really have? Stay here and wait for rent I couldn't pay? Wait for whoever threatened me to find me again?
At least at the manor, I'd have answers. And money. And maybe—just maybe—a chance to understand why my parents really died.
"When do we leave?" I heard myself say.
Thomas looked relieved. "Tomorrow morning. Pack light. Everything you need will be provided at the manor."
After he left, I sat in the darkness of my apartment for a long time. Tomorrow I'd return to the place where my parents died. The place I'd spent ten years trying to forget.
I should have been terrified. Instead, I felt something else. Something I hadn't felt in three months.
Hope.
That night, I dreamed.
I was seven years old again, running through Thornwood Manor's gardens. The sun was warm on my face and the grass was soft under my bare feet. I was laughing, chasing someone.
A boy with messy dark hair and storm-gray eyes. Cassian.
"You're too slow, Ellie!" he called, grinning over his shoulder.
"No fair! You got a head start!" I ran faster, my little legs pumping.
He slowed down to let me catch up, like he always did. When I grabbed his hand, we both collapsed onto the grass, breathless and happy.
"Promise we'll always be friends?" I asked him.
Cassian's gray eyes went serious, the way they did when he made important promises. "Always. No matter what."
"Even when we're old and grumpy?"
"Even then." He squeezed my hand. "I'll always find you, Ellie. I promise."
The dream shifted. Now I was seventeen, standing in the same garden at night. Smoke filled the air. Fire roared behind me. Cassian was pulling me toward the gates, his face desperate.
"Run!" he shouted. "Don't look back! Just run!"
"I won't leave you!" I screamed, trying to pull him with me.
"You have to! Promise me you'll live, Elara. Promise!"
"Cassian, no—"
He pushed me through the gates. The last thing I saw was his gray eyes, full of tears and something that looked like goodbye.
Then the manor exploded in flames.
I woke up gasping, my pillow wet with tears. My alarm clock said 3:17 AM.
The dream felt so real. I could still smell the smoke, still feel Cassian's hand in mine. Still hear his voice making me promise to live.
Cassian Vale. My best friend. My first kiss when I was sixteen and stupid and in love. He died trying to save my parents.
At least, that's what I'd been told.
I got up and went to my bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. In the mirror, my reflection looked haunted. Dark circles under my eyes. Skin too pale. I looked like a ghost.
My phone buzzed on my nightstand. A text from an unknown number.
My blood went cold as I read it:
He's been waiting for you. Ten years in the dark. Ten years alone. Come home, Elara. Come see what you left behind.
A photo loaded below the message.
It was Thornwood Manor at night, all the windows dark except one. In that single lit window on the third floor—my old bedroom window—stood a figure.
I zoomed in with shaking hands.
A man. Tall. Dark hair.
Gray eyes that seemed to stare directly through the camera. Directly at me.
Eyes I'd recognize anywhere.
Cassian's eyes.
But Cassian was dead.
Wasn't he?