Theo snuggled close to me and soon began to snore. I felt myself growing sleepier, lulled by the sound of the wind howling and the trees swaying outside.
While I slept, I heard voices in my room, but I couldn't move or wake myself—my body felt paralyzed.
"She'll do just fine. I've waited too long for this, and the preparations have already been made," a voice said.
The weight on my bed shifted as someone leaned over me, gently stroking my hair.
"You've never been wrong before, but you must be nervous. What if this doesn't work?" another voice asked.
I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding. I looked around, but there was no one there—just Theo, still snoring softly beside me. I shook him gently, but he didn't stir, which was unusual. Theo was normally a light sleeper.
Then I heard music drifting through the open window. I peered outside and saw the guest house alive with lights and people moving in and out of view. There was a sudden scream—followed by laughter—and more guests entered the house.
Without thinking, I threw on my robe and tiptoed out of my room, forgetting my shoes. As I descended the grand staircase, the laughter, clinking glasses, and music grew louder.
I reached the guest house and stood on my tiptoes to peer through the window. Inside, men and women dressed in black danced and chatted. A man played a tune on the piano I didn't recognize. Then, a woman caught my eye—she was wearing Ms. Alcott's ring. Clinging to her arm was a young man wearing Mr. Alcott's ring.
Confused, I started to back away from the window—when suddenly, a hand wrapped around my waist and clamped over my mouth. I tried to scream as I was dragged into the greenhouse.
The dark figure shoved me inside, his hand still pressed firmly over my mouth as he shut the door behind us.
It was Victor—and he was smiling.
"You weren't supposed to be out of bed, Ayana. What are you doing up?" he asked.
My legs went weak as I realized something was wrong—his eyes were no longer blue and green. They were black.
I backed away, trying to figure out where I could run. "Please," I whispered, barely audible.
Victor began removing his cufflinks, tossing them aside. They clinked against the inside of a flowerpot.
As he moved, I bolted for the door behind me. But he caught the end of my robe—it tore as I struggled to break free. Before I could escape, he grabbed me around the waist again and pulled me to the floor.
"No!" I screamed—and then came the worst pain I had ever experienced. It felt like someone was stabbing me, and my entire body was on fire.
I woke up screaming.
Theo leapt off the bed and hid under it. Roy burst into the room, a knife in hand, spinning in circles with wild eyes. "Where's the danger?!"
It was morning. As far as I could tell, it was just Roy and me.
"No danger," I said, my voice trembling. "I had a nightmare… though I can't even remember it now."
Roy lowered the knife and clutched his chest, breathing heavily. "It's alright, Miss Delaney. I had nightmares too during my first few months here. Try calling home—it helps. I'll have one of the maids bring you a glass of water."
He closed the door behind him as he left.
Theo still refused to come out until I coaxed him with a snack. He hesitantly took it from my hand, his big eyes wary.
I winced and reached for my thigh—an aching sensation pulsed there. At the mirror, I noticed the bruise on my shoulder had nearly faded, but now a new one had formed on my thigh.
How many times was I going to hurt myself in my sleep?
Today, Mrs. Alcott was going to show me my office and help me move my things in. I kissed Theo goodbye, apologizing twice more for scaring him. Mrs. Alcott was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes lighting up when she saw me.
"You missed breakfast, dear, so I had Mrs. Corpt prepare something else for you when you woke up. Was that you screaming this morning?"
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Alcott. I had a nightmare. I think it scared everyone."
She smiled and gently took my arm, leading me down a long corridor. "Think nothing of it, Miss Delaney. I had awful dreams when I first moved here too. I have a sleeping tonic that helped me—I'll have it sent to your room."
The hallway was long, lined with doors, until we reached one that stood open.
"This will be your office. It's larger than usual, but I want you to feel at home here. I do hope you'll stay a while—you're so gentle, and goodness knows this house could use some life."
Mrs. Alcott helped me arrange my books on the shelves and organize my notes and folders. When she finally left, I sat alone in the dusty room, rubbing my inner thigh absentmindedly as I considered where to place my notebooks.
Victor hadn't shown up all day—not that I cared. Well… that was a lie. I found myself thinking about him more than I should after our walk in the garden.
I stepped outside and stared toward the greenhouse. It made me uneasy, though I couldn't remember why. The lunch bell rang, and I hurried back inside, closing the front door behind me.
Lunch was chicken parmesan with Alfredo penne. Victor joined us, looking livelier and much happier than the day before.
"How'd you sleep, Doctor?" he asked with a teasing smirk. "I hear you woke the whole house with a bloodcurdling scream."
Mrs. Alcott quickly cut in. "Victor, don't tease. Miss Delaney had a nightmare, which is perfectly normal. Don't pry—I'm sure she's embarrassed enough."
I nodded silently, my appetite fading.
Excusing myself, I returned to my office to finish unpacking. A soft knock came at the door, and Victor stepped in, holding one of the garden roses.
"I thought you could use a bit of color in here," he said, offering it to me. "Mother would be furious if she knew I cut one—but it'll be our secret."
"Thank you," I said, placing it on the windowsill.
I could feel him watching me. It made me nervous—like I was under a microscope.
"Did I offend you at lunch?" he asked. "I apologize. I tend to speak my mind."
"You didn't offend me," I replied. "Honestly, I'm just a little embarrassed. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. Hopefully a good night's sleep will fix it—if it ever comes."
Victor pulled a small bottle from his pocket and placed it in my hand. "My mother asked me to give you this. It should help you sleep."
"Thank you," I said again, feeling a flutter in my chest as his fingers brushed my palm.
I quickly pulled away. "I should finish setting up. I'll see you at dinner."
He smiled and left, leaving the door slightly ajar.
, I thought, then remembered I was due to call the girls.
When the call connected, a chorus of screams and cheers erupted.
"I can't believe you're really gone, Ayana!" Janet shouted.
"So?" Kara grinned. "Tell us everything. What's it like living the rich life?"
Tears welled up in my eyes. Seeing them made me realize how far away I truly was.
"Oh, sweetie, don't cry—we miss you too," Milly said, her voice cracking.
I blew my nose into a tissue. "Everything's amazing. Victor showed me the garden yesterday—"
" showed you the garden?" Kara asked, squinting suspiciously. "A man showed you the garden, huh?"
My ears burned as they interrogated me.
"He's the Alcotts' son—and yes, he's very charming. But I'm technically employed by his family, so it's all strictly professional."
They all booed. "Send us a picture!"
"No, no, no. Strictly professional, remember?"
They groaned and asked for a description instead. I couldn't help but mention the rose, the hand-holding on the way to the greenhouse…
"Jack's not gonna like that," Milly teased. "But I'm glad someone's keeping you entertained out there. Just promise you won't get pregnant and end up living out there forever."
I laughed and promised, but then I heard footsteps.
"Someone's coming—I'll call you later."
We said our goodbyes just as Roy appeared at the door.
"Mr. and Mrs. Alcott have gone into town again, and I'm off to deliver some letters. Can you manage on your own?"
"Yes, Roy. I'll be fine."
He nodded and left.
As the sun began to set, I left my office. Victor was in the library, reading a thick black book. I tiptoed past, not wanting to disturb him.
The house was eerily quiet for six in the evening. I wandered into the living room, hoping to find a TV—but no luck.
On the table lay a book titled .
I snapped a picture of it and opened to the first page. "Latin. Of course," I muttered, regretting that I'd never learned the language.
The book was thick and worn, with some pages missing. One page was nearly torn out but still clung to the binding. I took another photo of it.
The dinner bell rang. I closed the book and glanced at it one more time. Strange—but then again, Victor had said their lineage stretched back centuries.
At the dining table, I found James already seated. Victor was waiting for me.
"Mrs. Corpt is bringing filet Mignon for you shortly," he said, pulling out my chair. "She's excellent at everything she makes."
"Aren't you eating?" I asked.
"No. I had a large meal this morning—I'm still digesting."
James smirked and twirled his cup. I didn't get the joke, so I sat quietly, aware once again that Victor was watching me eat.