One week.
One endless week since Isabel arrived at the mansion.
Days blurred—breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleep.
And always… that hollow pause in between.
Sometimes she played with that oddly large puppy—or whatever it was—in the courtyard.
Sometimes she sat quietly in the garden, watching Orion's ears twitch in sleep… wondering what someone like him dreamed of.
And yet—
Why am I still here?
The question lingered longer than it should.
She checked her phone again.
No signal.
Not even a flicker.
A soft exhale slipped past her lips.
Annie must be worried by now…
The silence inside the mansion felt heavier today.
Isabel stepped into the corridor.
The hallways stretched endlessly—identical and still.
Her footsteps echoed too clearly…
as if they didn't belong to her.
A quiet unease crept in.
She had taken too many turns.
Too many identical paths.
The mansion had swallowed her.
"Hello?" she called, her voice unsteady.
No response.
"Lyra?"
Nothing.
At the far end of the corridor, a figure stood near the corner.
Still.
Watching.
"Isaac?"
The figure shifted—then walked away.
Not hurried.
Not slow.
Just… certain.
"Wait…" she called, louder this time.
The figure didn't stop.
Isabel hesitated—just for a second.
Then she followed.
Not because she wanted to…
but because turning back suddenly felt worse.
The figure turned another corner.
She followed again—
—and stopped.
This place.
She had seen this corridor before.
Her gaze lifted slowly.
The door.
The one she had noticed on her first day.
It stood slightly open—
just enough to let the darkness breathe.
The air here felt different.
Not colder.
Not quieter.
Just… wrong.
Her fingers curled around the handle—
She paused.
This wasn't curiosity anymore.
Something about the door felt… wrong.
She should leave.
She knew that.
…But she didn't.
"You should not be here."
The voice was calm.
Too calm.
Isabel spun.
Lyra stood behind her.
Watching.
"I got lost," Isabel said quickly—
then shook her head.
"No… that's not true."
Her eyes flicked toward the door.
"I was following someone."
A pause.
Her brows drew together slightly.
"I thought… it was you. The one ahead of me."
Lyra didn't respond.
"I tried to call you," Isabel continued.
"You didn't stop… so I kept following."
Lyra's expression shifted—just slightly.
"I just arrived," Lyra said, her tone perfectly even.
The words didn't sit right.
Isabel's fingers stilled.
"Then…" she said, her voice tightening slightly,
"…who was I following?"
A chill ran down her spine.
She hadn't heard any footsteps.
But she was certain—
she hadn't been alone.
Lyra's gaze narrowed.
"What are you talking about?"
Silence stretched.
Thin.
Uneasy.
Then—
Lyra stepped forward and shut the door firmly.
The sound echoed down the corridor.
"I told you to leave," Lyra said, her voice controlled. "Why are you still here?"
"I didn't come here on purpose."
Lyra stepped closer.
"You think you came here for a job?"
"What?"
"You don't know why you're here."
Isabel hesitated.
Something about that sentence felt… misplaced—
like it didn't belong to her,
yet somehow… fit.
"You came here because—"
"Miss Lyra."
Isaac's voice cut in.
Lyra stopped.
For a moment, something flickered in her eyes—frustration… or hesitation.
Then it was gone.
"…I tried to warn you," she said quietly.
Then she walked away.
Too quickly.
Isabel watched her disappear.
For a moment, the corridor felt… empty in the wrong way.
"Please don't mind her," Isaac said gently.
Isabel hesitated.
"Did I do something wrong?"
A small pause.
"…I think she doesn't like me."
Isaac glanced in the direction Lyra had left.
"She can be… difficult," he said calmly.
Then, after a beat—
"But she will come around."
Isabel glanced at the door.
"And that room?"
Isaac's expression didn't change.
"That room has been closed for a long time," he said calmly.
"There's nothing in there for you."
Isabel frowned slightly.
It hadn't looked locked.
Her gaze lingered on the door.
Closed now.
As if nothing had ever been there.
She turned and walked away.
Isaac followed—then slowed.
He glanced back at the door.
Just for a moment.
Then he turned and continued after her.
They moved toward the entrance hall.
The main doors stood open.
At the gate, Isabel paused.
"I know someone's watching me," she said quietly.
"All the time."
Isaac considered her words.
"You are in a place that takes security seriously."
She stepped toward the gate.
"Miss Isabel."
He moved, blocking her path.
"The Lord is away from town. Until he returns, he has requested that you stay inside."
"Requested?" she repeated.
"He was clear."
"I just want to walk," she said. "I need air."
"The surrounding area is unfamiliar to you."
"I'll manage."
Silence settled between them.
Something shifted inside her—
not emotion.
Just stillness.
"Move."
The word left her before she could stop it.
Cold.
Final.
Isabel blinked—
because for a moment…
it hadn't felt like her voice at all.
Isaac paused.
Only for a moment.
Then he stepped aside…
as if he had always meant to.
Isabel pushed the gate open.
Cold air struck her face.
Sharp.
Real.
"If you are going," Isaac said evenly, "I will accompany you."
"I don't need protection."
"I wasn't offering protection."
A beat.
"You are new here. It would be improper to let you wander alone."
She hesitated.
"…Fine."
They stepped beyond the gate and began walking toward the town.
From a hill overlooking the road, a car waited in silence.
The engine was off.
Yet it felt… present.
Like it had been there long before them.
Inside, a figure shifted in the driver's seat.
A hood shadowed the face—only the faint line of a jaw visible.
A phone lifted.
The figure watched her for a moment longer—
as if confirming something.
Then—
"She's heading into town."
The call ended.
The car didn't move.
It had never been there by accident.
And this time—
when Isabel glanced toward the hill…
it felt like something was already looking back.