The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Kate was gone. No one said it, but Ivy knew. She had seen it—
The way her body didn't move after the fall.
The way Mrs. Grose had silently cleaned the blood on the floor, eyes red.
The way Flora avoided her gaze and just whispered, "She shouldn't have tried to leave."
Ivy hadn't cried.
She hadn't screamed.
She had just... watched.
Something had cracked inside her.
And something darker... crawled into the space.
That night, Miles found her in the music room, sitting at the piano.
The firelight danced across the keys. She wasn't playing—just pressing one note, slowly, over and over.
He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. "You're still awake."
"I can't sleep," she said.
"Good," he whispered. "I didn't want to be alone."
He walked to her. Sat beside her on the bench.
The note stopped. Silence.
Their shoulders touched.
She didn't move.
"You miss her," he said.
Ivy nodded.
Miles reached out, gently turning her face toward him.
"She didn't understand. But you do, don't you?"
Her heart pounded. "Understand what?"
"What it means to belong to something bigger than yourself."
His breath was warm.
His voice was velvet.
"She tried to pull you away. But you stayed. You stayed with me."
"I didn't mean to," Ivy whispered. "I—I don't know what's happening to me."
Miles leaned closer.
"You're waking up. That's all."
And then—
He kissed her.
Soft. Slow. Like he had all the time in the world.
Her breath hitched.
She didn't stop him.
His lips moved against hers, gently at first... then deeper. Hungrier. Her hands went to his shoulders, gripping tightly like she was afraid the room would fall away.
Maybe it already had.
He stood up, tugging her hand.
"Come with me."
She followed.
No hesitation.
They went to his room.
The fire was burning low, casting gold and red on the dark walls. Shadows danced, but none of them were theirs.
He closed the door behind her.
She stood still.
He stepped close.
"Miles..." she whispered, unsure.
He pressed his forehead to hers. "Tell me to stop."
But she didn't.
Instead, she kissed him first this time—fierce and desperate, like she needed him to breathe.
He picked her up.
Carried her to the bed.
Laid her down gently, as if she might break.
But she was already broken.
And he was the only one who knew how to put her back together—
wrong,
twisted,
perfect.
The covers tangled around them.
Breathless. Touches growing slower. Deeper.
He whispered her name again and again like a spell.
And Ivy forgot everything—
Kate. The fall. The blood. The screaming in the walls.
Even herself.
All she knew was him.
She woke up hours later, still tangled in his arms.
Miles was already watching her.
"Did you sleep?" she asked.
"I didn't need to," he said.
"Why?"
"Because I have you."