Dawn came quietly, as if it were afraid to wake the house. The mist rolled thick and low across the valley, curling between the trees like breath. The air held that stillness that comes just before something changes — the kind of silence that isn't peace but anticipation.
She woke before the others. The night had been restless; every creak of the old floorboards and whisper of wind outside had kept her mind turning over the same thought — the letter.
She went to the window. Beyond the field, the mist seemed heavier, almost alive. And there, for the briefest moment, she thought she saw a figure standing near the tree line — tall, motionless, watching. But when she blinked, it was gone.
Her heart gave a small, frightened jump.
By the time the brothers came downstairs, she had lit the fire and made tea, though she hadn't touched a drop.
The younger brother noticed immediately. "You didn't sleep."
She didn't deny it. "There was someone outside this morning," she said softly. "By the trees. I'm sure of it."
The older brother froze mid-step, his face tightening. "What did he look like?"
"I couldn't see properly," she admitted. "Just a dark shape. But he was watching the house."
He exchanged a tense glance with his brother. Neither spoke, but the silence between them said enough.
The younger one set down his cup carefully, his voice low but firm. "We can't ignore this anymore. Whoever sent that letter knows where to find us."
"And they're not waiting for an invitation," the older one added grimly.
The three of them stepped outside together. The morning air was cold and damp, carrying the faint scent of rain. The valley, once so familiar and safe, now felt different — like it was holding its breath along with them.
They searched the edge of the property, but the grass was unbroken. No footprints. No signs of movement. Only the mist, thick and watchful.
When they returned, she lingered near the door, staring out toward the hills. "What if this isn't about the debt at all?" she murmured. "What if they're after something else?"
The older brother hesitated. "There's nothing here worth taking."
She turned to him. "There's always something worth taking — even if it's peace."
He looked away. "I told you I'd handle it. I'll find whoever sent that letter."
But before he could step outside again, a knock echoed through the house. Slow. Heavy.
They froze.
The sound came again — deliberate, unhurried, as if the person on the other side already knew they would answer.
The younger brother moved first. "Stay behind me."
He opened the door slowly.
A man stood on the porch, tall and sharp-featured, dressed in a dark coat that gleamed faintly with the morning mist. His hat shadowed most of his face, but his smile — faint and polite — didn't reach his eyes.
"Good morning," the stranger said smoothly, his voice deep and unhurried. "I trust I haven't come at a bad time."
The younger brother's jaw tightened. "That depends on who you are."
The man tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his expression. "Let's say… an old acquaintance of your brother's."
The older brother stepped forward then, his expression darkening. "You."
"Ah," the stranger said softly, his smile widening just a touch. "You do remember me."
The woman's pulse quickened. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with something electric and dangerous.
"You should've stayed gone," the older brother said through clenched teeth.
"And miss all the fun?" The stranger's tone was light, but his eyes were sharp. "You owe a great deal more than you think."
"I paid what I could."
"You paid with silence," the man said coolly, "but silence doesn't last forever."
The younger brother stepped closer, his stance protective. "If you came for money, you'll leave disappointed."
The stranger's gaze flicked toward him, assessing. "You must be the loyal one. Always ready to defend. Admirable." His voice dropped, silk over steel. "But you might want to ask your brother what, exactly, he promised before you decide to stand in front of him."
The older brother's face paled slightly. "Don't."
The stranger's smile deepened. "Oh, I think it's time. Secrets have such a way of rotting when you try to bury them."
She couldn't help but ask, her voice trembling slightly, "What did you promise?"
The older brother closed his eyes for a moment, as though the weight of her words pressed against his chest. "It wasn't supposed to matter anymore."
The stranger laughed softly. "But it does. You see, when I gave him shelter, it wasn't for free. He signed an agreement. A debt not of coin, but of information. He saw something — something he wasn't meant to see. And in exchange for his safety, he swore to retrieve it when the time came."
Her stomach turned cold. "Retrieve what?"
The stranger's eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "A name."
"A name?" she echoed.
"Yes," he said simply. "One that could destroy a very powerful man. One your dear brother stumbled upon by accident."
The older brother's voice was barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to be part of it. I tried to forget."
"But forgetting," the stranger said softly, "is a luxury few can afford."
The younger brother took a step forward. "If you think we'll let you threaten us—"
The stranger raised a hand, calm and measured. "Threaten? No, no. I'm here to give a choice. The letter was only a courtesy."
He reached into his coat and pulled out another envelope, sealed with the same dark crest. He placed it gently on the table just inside the doorway.
"You have seven days," he said quietly. "Find the name. Or I'll take something else instead."
And before anyone could move, he turned and walked back into the mist — his footsteps soundless, his shape fading until the fog swallowed him whole.
No one spoke for a long time after he left. The letter lay untouched on the table, its edges catching the light.
Finally, the younger brother exhaled, voice low. "What name?"
The older one didn't look up. "I don't know. But whatever it is… it's dangerous enough that he wants it buried — or found."
She glanced between them, her heartbeat unsteady. "Then we find it first."
The older brother met her gaze, a shadow crossing his expression. "And if finding it means digging through everything we tried to leave behind?"
She didn't hesitate. "Then we dig."
Outside, the mist began to thin, revealing the valley beyond — beautiful, quiet, and deceptive.
Somewhere, hidden beneath that stillness, the past was stirring.
And this time, it wouldn't stay buried.