In the fading light of evening, Ksenia pulled two black evening gowns from her wardrobe, holding them up against her body in front of the mirror.
The plaster cast on her right foot stood out, stark and ugly, clashing with every dress she owned. Sitting on the edge of her bed, her patience finally snapped. She shoved the rejected dresses back into the closet with a frustrated grunt and slammed her fist into her pillow.
When she finally emerged from her room, Henry's eyes, which had been fixed on Darling, immediately locked onto her.
"That dress... it was made for you," he whispered, nodding in genuine admiration.
It was an exquisite black gown with delicate lace paneling that traced the curves of her body, though it failed to fully hide the glaring white of the cast on her foot.
Ksenia glanced down, her voice cold. "This cast ruins everything."
"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you?" Henry asked, his worry evident. It was getting late, and Loughton was not a safe city at night. "Your foot is still healing."
"It's just a girls' night," Ksenia replied flatly, clipping on her earrings. "McKinney is picking me up."
Reluctantly, Henry let it go.
McKinney arrived in a black dress that covered her from the neck down; only her face was visible. She looked less like a partygoer and more like someone heading to a funeral.
"I've never even heard of this place," Ksenia remarked as they drove.
"Every high-society member in Loughton knows it. Ksenia, this will be an eye-opener. But first..." McKinney pulled a black silk blindfold from her bag. With practiced ease, she tied it over Ksenia's eyes. "It's a ritual for newcomers. It's meant to maximize the surprise."
During the hour-long drive, Ksenia remained in a state of high tension. Deprived of sight, her hearing became hyper-acute. Before they even stepped out of the car, she heard the smooth strains of jazz. Listening closer, she recognized the voice—it sounded like a live performance by one of her favorite singers. McKinney wasn't lying; the guest list was elite.
"You can take the blindfold off now."
They stood in the front garden of the manor, separated from the main house by a high wall. A group of burly guards, all identical in height, watched them like guard dogs, weapons holstered at their hips.
A man in a black suit and a mask approached them. "Miss Ksenia?"
"Present."
He handed her a fingerprint scanner. "For security purposes." He then scanned her entire body, similar to an airport security check, before handing her a leather mask that covered the upper half of her face.
"Follow me."
The manor's exterior was Western and dignified, but the interior was so opulent it felt unsettling. South Asian-style patterned tiles, vast expanses of vintage dark wood, and tropical plants were scattered everywhere, mixed with traditional Chinese rosewood furniture. To Ksenia, this chaotic blend felt like a Salvador Dalí painting.
She followed the masked man with a growing sense of dread into a room with crimson walls. In the center, a massive marble statue of an angel looked down at her with a tranquil, judging gaze. The room was draped in Gothic decor, and two rows of people in blood-red hooded cloaks stood atop the black-and-white checkered floor. Ksenia couldn't see their faces, but she could feel their eyes burning into her.
She forced herself to stand beneath the angel. Her heartbeat was as clear and rhythmic as a drum.
"Hello. Welcome to Cloudglow Manor."
The speaker wore a raven mask. Standing nearly six-foot-three with a balanced, muscular frame against the black and red backdrop, he looked like the incarnation of Lucifer.
"Miss Ksenia, we've been expecting you for a long time. Are you ready for your baptism?"
"Baptism? Who... who are you people?" Ksenia finally spoke.
No one answered. Only a dead, suffocating silence.
Her eyes darted uncontrollably toward the open door. One thought consumed her: Run.
But she was a trapped beast. Even if she escaped the house, she couldn't escape the manor. Yet her body moved before her logic could catch up. Dragging her heavy cast and ignoring the searing pain, she bolted through the corridors, past door after door, until she stumbled into a garden filled with exotic flora.
Massive vines were heavy with multicolored flowers, emitting a sickly-sweet fragrance. This peaceful, warm sanctuary felt like a different world from the darkness she had just left.
"Do you like the flowers?"
Ksenia jumped, nearly falling into a crevice in the ground.
Why was there a crack in the earth?
An elderly man, appearing to be in his seventies, stood there. He was thin, with drooping eyelids, quietly watering a bed of delicate roses.
Ksenia looked back—no one was chasing her. "They're fine," she replied dismissively.
"Hand me those shears. Yes, the ones to your right."
Ksenia was taken aback by his bluntness; they were strangers, after all. The old man's gaze fell upon her face, searching her features as if confirming something.
"Ksenia, don't you remember me?"
The light was dim. Ksenia stepped closer. The color of his eyes, the pattern of his wrinkles, the scar on his cheekbone... it was all so familiar.
"Grandpa?"
Before she could process it, he asked, "Why are you here?"
"I was invited. When did you plant these flowers?"
"I planted them the day you were born. Now, they are blooming as beautifully as you. How is life in the UK? Have they been bullying you?"
Ksenia's eyes, usually as cold as ice, brimmed with tears. She rushed forward and threw her arms around him. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you too."
She looked at him intently. "Where are Mom and Dad?"
As if on cue, her parents stepped out from the misty rain. her mother walked over and playfully tapped the old man's head. "What are you telling Ksenia now?"
Solina looked young. Her warm hand gently stroked Ksenia's face. "Child, have you been well?"
Her mother was right there. Her father stood nearby with a gentle smile. Her grandfather watched over them.
"Uncle Shen adopted me. He was kind, but because of that kindness, I've spent twenty years feeling inferior. Mom, I am your child, right?"
"Of course you are our daughter."
"They suppressed me. I had to struggle alone in the UK since I was fifteen. I was so lonely. I missed you all so much. I just kept dancing, telling myself that if I had money, I'd be okay... but I wasn't. And then I was..."
The name of the Manager was on the tip of her tongue.
Suddenly, she felt a sharp, electric sting on her pinky finger, right where her ring sat.
"Grandpa?" The faces of her family were so vivid, yet how could this be her grandfather? He had been conscripted and killed when she was only four years old. She remembered hearing the news while she was standing on a dining table, singing.
And her parents... if they hadn't left, she would never have been reduced to a punching bag in the Lu household.
Ksenia trembled and sank to the floor. She was terrified—terrified of the dark, and terrified that she was facing more than just a phantom.
But the vision wouldn't let her go. It smiled kindly, yet coiled around her like a venomous snake, choking her.
Her sharp mind finally realized: this hallucination was nothing more than an interrogation cloaked in sugar. But how?
She glanced at the ring on her pinky again.
"And then you were what?" her "Grandpa" pressed.
"And then I was framed by the media for things I never did," she said, her tone turning ice-cold.
"Don't be afraid, Ksenia. I will solve all your problems. You just need to be Mom's good girl." Solina reached out. "Let Mother hold you."
"No... No!" Ksenia backed away, her foot hitting empty air. "AAAAGH!"
She fell into the abyss.
Her face was pressed against the cold floor.
Opening her eyes, she found herself back in the prayer room. The hooded figures were watching her in silence. It was just as she thought—she had been trapped in a psychic loop.
The Raven-masked man's voice rang out, dripping with official politeness. "It seems those are the things Miss Ksenia finds hardest to let go of. We appreciate your cooperation. Now, we can enjoy ourselves together with peace of mind."
Ksenia forced herself to stand. "Forgive me, but I wish to go home. My boyfriend is waiting for me."
The man leaned in, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. The proximity made Ksenia flinch; her personal space was being violated.
"Very well. I hope you will attend our next gathering just as punctually." His toneless voice sent a shiver down her spine.
She didn't know how she got home. Her memory was a fractured blur. When she woke, it was already 3:00 PM. The sky outside was a dull grey, with the usual drizzling rain.
Her phone rang. A name flashed on the screen: Madame Lu.
"Ksenia! Why did it take you so long to answer? Have you seen Jiting? What did you say to him? Why isn't he back yet?" The voice was familiar—high-pitched and aggressive.
"I saw him. I said nothing."
Madame Lu was relentless. "Impossible! You must have said something to make him run off to Loughton like a madman. He is my only son—how much do you want to torture him before you're satisfied? You're a curse, just like your mother! Even if you're doing this to spite me, I beg you, let him live a healthy life. How can you be so selfish? Is this how I raised you?"
The voice echoed in her ear, the suffocating sensation like invisible tentacles coiling around her throat.
She had never dared to hang up on a member of the Lu family. But in this moment, a sudden surge of autonomy—of holding her fate in her own hands—filled her.
"Do not insult my parents," Ksenia snapped. "What makes you think I'm so desperate to cling to your son? It's him—your pathetic son—who won't leave me alone. He hates you so much that he'd come find me just to see you suffer. You really are a failure. No love from your husband, none from your children. You only know how to vent your rage on me. Why don't you ask Jiting yourself... does he love you, or does he loathe you?"
She hung up. A decade of suppressed resentment was released in a single breath. All her efforts over the years seemed to have led to this one moment.
She began to cry. Why am I always crying?
But why were her tears red?
She stared at the red liquid on her hands in panic. "Henry!" she called out, but he was nowhere to be found.
She rushed into the bathroom to wash the blood away, but the reflection in the mirror wasn't her own. It was a woman—gaunt, wrinkled, her face a map of age, weeping tears of blood.
"Why did you kill me?" the woman in the mirror shrieked.
Ksenia recoiled, screaming. It was an illusion—she was still trapped. But why? Why were they doing this to her?
"You... you... I did kill you, in Hlasto... but you struck me first! You abused me! You tried to hide my identity, you wouldn't let Lu Xiao come for me, you said you'd torture me forever!"
Memories, half-true and half-false, flashed like a horror movie. Ksenia screamed, the woman screamed, a child screamed.
When she finally opened her eyes, it was daylight. Cloudglow Manor was empty. The crimson room held nothing but her and her bag from the night before, lying lonely on the cold floor.
Was it all a nightmare? Her head throbbed.
The moment she had confessed her darkest secret in the hallucination, everything vanished. Why?
Could those masked men hear what she said in the dreamscape? Was this all a play to gather blackmail? The reality of it all made her skin crawl.
She knew her nightmare had only just begun.