The heavy door sealed shut behind him.
The metallic echo lingered in the air long after Sebastian's footsteps faded.
Isabelle stood still for a long time, her heart hammering against her ribs.
The monitors flickered faintly muted blues and greys dancing across her face until the silence felt almost alive.
Every instinct screamed that she should obey him.
Lock the door. Stay safe. Wait.
But she'd done enough waiting.
Her eyes drifted to the files on the shelves Evelyn Kane's name stamped across dozens of folders.
Old newspaper clippings, investigation reports, photographs marked Confidential.
She reached for one.
The first image made her freeze.
Evelyn, a few weeks before her death smiling, radiant, wearing the same red dress from the portrait in the hallway. But her eyes they weren't smiling. They were wide. Afraid.
There was something written on the back in Sebastian's handwriting:
"She said they'd come for me next."
Isabelle frowned. They.
Who was they?
She flipped through the next few photos.
Evelyn outside an event, standing near two men in dark suits. One of them had a symbol tattooed behind his ear a triangle intersected by a serpent.
That same symbol flashed briefly on one of the flickering screens drawn in chalk on the garden wall outside.
Her stomach turned.
It wasn't just random graffiti.
Someone was sending a message.
She swallowed hard and kept going.
A smaller folder lay at the bottom of the pile, newer, cleaner. The paper inside was still crisp.
Her name was printed at the top.
LANE, ISABELLE.
She blinked, stunned. "What?"
Inside were surveillance photos of her.
At her old apartment. At her café job. Even one from the night she met Sebastian for the first time.
Her knees weakened. "Oh my God"
There was a handwritten note at the bottom:
"Unknown connection to Evelyn's file. Watch closely. Possible link."
Her pulse raced.
Possible link?
Sebastian had been watching her long before they met not by chance, but because he thought she was connected to the woman who'd died.
She felt dizzy. The walls felt closer. The hum of the monitors became deafening.
A faint thud echoed from above.
She flinched, clutching the file to her chest. The sound came again softer this time.
Footsteps. Heavy. Careful.
Not Sebastian's.
Her eyes darted to the security feed.
The camera on the east corridor showed a shadow moving toward the locked room. Slow. Deliberate.
He'd told her not to open the door. But if whoever that was had gotten inside the mansion.
She backed away until her hand brushed something on the piano a tiny silver locket, half-hidden beneath dust.
She picked it up. Inside was a photo Evelyn and a little girl with light-brown curls.
Neither was Sebastian.
Isabelle's breath hitched. "She had a daughter?"
Before she could think further, the handle of the locked door rattled.
She froze.
"Sebastian?" she whispered.
No answer.
The rattling stopped then came the faint hiss of a keypad being tampered with.
Whoever it was, they knew the code.
Her panic surged. She grabbed the nearest object a metal candleholder and pressed herself against the side of the door. The keypad beeped once, twice then clicked green.
The door began to open.
Light spilled into the room, cutting through the darkness.
And Isabelle raised the candleholder, ready to strike.
But as the figure stepped in, her breath caught.
It wasn't Sebastian.
It wasn't Liam.
It was a woman dark coat, auburn hair, and eyes that looked far too much like Evelyn's.
The woman smiled faintly when she saw Isabelle.
"Well," she said softly, "I suppose it's time you knew who your mother really was."