External Point of View
Meanwhile, at the Greenne house, the place seemed frozen inside a bubble of heat and silence.
The July sun lazily struck the windows, casting golden reflections across the pale walls of the living room. At first glance, nothing suggested that the balance had just been broken. That beneath the floorboards, behind a carefully concealed wall, a secret buried for years had just been awakened.
The Greenne children stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the dark opening that hadn't existed the day before. A new fracture in their reality. A doorway to something they were never meant to see—or know.
Down the hallway, their mother went on with her tasks, unaware of what was unfolding only a few meters away. Her mind was elsewhere, trapped in her own thoughts, her silences, her painful memories she kept pushing aside, and her financial worries. She had no idea of the latent danger hanging over them—born of a past she had locked away years ago, and of a secret ready to reveal itself.
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Avery's POV
I couldn't believe what I had just discovered.
While a thousand questions collided inside my head, the one that unsettled me the most was the one my brother finally voiced.
"How did you know about this door?"
"I don't know," I said, turning toward him, just as lost as he was.
"What do you mean, you don't know?" he insisted.
"Like I said—I don't know…"
Words I could hardly believe myself.
"Wow," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
He began pacing back and forth, mumbling under his breath, then let out another "Wow."
"Could you stop that? You're stressing me out," I snapped.
"I'm shocked, okay? I've got a ton of questions sprouting in my little brain," he replied seriously.
"Well, you're not the only one. And watching you twitch around the corners of the room isn't helping me think straight."
"What's the point anyway, if you don't know either? The only way to shed some light on this is to step through that doorway—but judging by your face, you're not ready for that."
I shot him a look—half annoyed, half agreeing—just so he would finally shut up. Which he did.
He wasn't wrong. The answers to all our questions might be waiting in that place we hadn't known existed until now.
"All right, that's it. I'm going in," he said, trying to step through the opening.
I stopped him.
"What the hell are you doing?" I said, grabbing his arm.
"What do you think? I'm going to find a logical explanation for all this."
"It could be dangerous."
"Or not. Aren't you curious why Dad kept this place secret—and what might be inside?"
"But we don't know what could be waiting for us…"
"And we never will if we stay planted here like garden gnomes, too scared to cross the line," he said, moving forward.
He wasn't wrong—I knew that. Still, I hesitated. If we'd never heard about this secret room, there had to be a reason.
"So? Are you coming or not?" he called out.
I couldn't resist. I stepped through as well.
A sharp click echoed behind us—the passage had closed.
I tightened my grip around the key and followed Daniel despite the apprehension tightening in my chest. As for him, he ventured deeper into the darkness.
The passage was narrow. The walls cold and rough. Beneath our feet, the floor creaked softly, as if protesting our intrusion.
A strange smell lingered—old metal, dust, and damp wood. The darkness felt almost alive, swallowing the daylight without effort.
After a few meters, a faint glow appeared.
A tiny room, hidden away, almost forgotten by the world.
It resembled a small library, like the town's—but filled with much older objects that didn't quite belong there: books, relics, strange things, each more unsettling than the last.
"Dad was really hiding stuff like this?" Daniel whispered.
I didn't dare answer.
As we explored, the key burned in my palm again, making me flinch.
"Hey—are you okay?" Daniel asked.
"Yeah… I'm fine."
A glimmer caught my eye on the other side of the room, and I moved toward it immediately.
On a shelf, right in the center—
A box.
The box.
The one from the photo. The one from this morning. The one I never thought I'd find here.
I stepped closer, trembling, picked it up, then placed it on a table, setting the key beside it—along with the notebook.
It was already slightly open. The lock that once sealed it was broken.
A dull click echoed through the room as I opened it.
And this time, it wasn't just a door I was opening.
It was a secret.
My father's secret.
And perhaps the beginning of everything else.