"BEFORE THE ATTIC"
It's time.
They're gone.
I watch through the curtain as the BMW glides out of the driveway, disappearing into the misty street. Perfect. The clouds are heavy outside, swollen and gray,it's going to pour. Fitting.
I draw the curtains closed and glance down. Montricia sits on the floor, her green eyes locked onto mine like she knows something's about to happen.
"I'll find something. I'm sure of it," I whisper.
She blinks slowly, lets out a soft meow, and turns in a circle like she's giving me her approval. I nod.
The doorbell rings after fiteen minutes, the sound echoing all around. My heart leaps, but I already know who it is.
I open it to find Cade standing there, rain-damp curls falling into his eyes, a navy hoodie thrown over his head, jeans hanging loose on his frame. He looks unfairly good,alive in a way I never feel.
"First time coming to your place the proper way," he says with a crooked grin. "Though I guess it's her house more, huh?"
His eyes flick to Montricia. I step aside and pull him inside.
"I didn't have the guts to do this alone," I admit. "You said the truth is in this house… and we have to find it."
He whistles low as he glances around.
"Damn. This place is huge."
The living room could be on the cover of a luxury magazine. Impeccably furnished. Not a pillow out of place. It looks like a dream,but it feels like a cage. White.
My eyes meet his. He's watching me, reading me like he always does, those intense blue eyes peeling away everything I try to hide.
"You always stay inside? You are getting pale as a ghost—I'm sorry, never mind."
Yeah, I have stopped going out in the garden even, and considering my features, I've never looked less than creepy.
"Where do we start?" he asks suddenly.
"Study." I scoop up Montricia and carry her to the base of the stairs. "Sorry, girl. You're staying here."
"Looks like you two made up," he says.
"Mhm," I murmur.
At the study door, I pause. My heart pounds too loudly. This is the right thing… right?
I twist the handle.
The study is drenched in elegance. Deep navy walls, a grand arched window pouring gray light across the room, a polished mahogany desk gleaming like it's been dusted just this morning. The shelves climb all the way to the ceiling, crammed with old books that smell like time. It's warm here. Deceptively cozy. Too quiet.
"This is giving 'murder mystery' vibes," Cade mutters, eyeing the leather chair. "You sure nothing's been killed in here?"
"We gotta find out," I say.
I move behind the desk and pull open the drawers one by one.
Papers. Receipts. Files. Useless junk.
Second drawer-more papers. Third-pens and random envelopes.
Each drawer feels like a punch to the gut. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Cade has stopped pretending to browse the shelves. He's just watching me now, the disappointment on my face probably louder than anything I could say.
I tug at random books, press my fingers against the edges of the shelves, slide my hand under the rug. Nothing. No hidden lever. No creaky compartment. No secret room. It has been half an hour in this room, and we have not found anything yet.
Nothing.
"Hey, Blue, I think we—"
Grumble.
My stomach lets out a loud, tragic growl. I freeze.
Cade pauses, blinks once, then grins. Of course he heard.
"Seriously?" he says, amused. "We're on a covert mission and your stomach's the first one to blow your cover?"
"Shut up."
I try to pretend it didn't happen, but my face is burning. I haven't eaten all day. Food just didn't feel… important.
"Come on. Quick break. You need it," he says, already walking out of the study.
A few minutes later, we're sitting at the kitchen counter—him with a plate of cookies, me with a half-eaten packet of chips.
"These are amazing," Cade says with his mouth full. "Honestly? I wouldn't mind living here."
"Yeah, live in a golden cage. Try not to suffocate."
He doesn't argue. Just eats.
I crunch through another chip, gaze out the kitchen window where the sky is finally starting to cry.
"Eat fast," I say. "Our next stop is the attic."
He grins through a mouthful of cookies.
"Now we're talking."