Mason didn't sleep.
As the storm faded into endless rain, he sat by the bedroom window. With her handwriting reflecting across the pages like a whisper from the afterlife, Emily's journal was open on his lap.
He read the same sentence over and over again:
> "Someone's in the house when you're not home. I hear things. I feel watched. I'm not sure who to trust anymore, not even those closest to me."
His fingers gripped the leather spine. Emily never talked like that. She had always been open with him, gentle and trusting. If she had felt in danger, why hadn't she told him?
Unless she tried… and someone made sure he never heard.
Downstairs, the fire had died to glowing embers. Mason finally stood, the journal clenched in his hand, and made his way to the guest room.
He knocked once before pushing the door open.
As though she hadn't slept for days, Bella adjusted under the cover and cuddled up closely. Her eyes were blurry as she slowly sat up.
"You read it," she said quietly.
Mason nodded.
"There's more," she added. "Not just about feeling watched. She wrote about someone she trusted. Someone she thought could help her. Then she suddenly stopped writing mid-sentence. That last page… it just ends."
"I saw it," Mason said. "No sign-off. No explanation. It's like she was interrupted."
He hesitated. "You really believe someone killed her?"
Bella looked down at her hands. "I didn't want to. But now… yes."
"Then we're not safe here either."
She looked up at him, startled.
"You think they followed me?" she asked, voice tight.
"I think if they know you have that journal, they will."
Bella gripped the sheets. Her skin had lost color.
"But you're not going anywhere," Mason added. "Not until we figure out what really happened."
Bella swallowed hard. "Do you believe me?"
"I believe Emily," he said. "And you came here with her words."
Later that morning, Bella stood looking at a faded picture that was pasted to the wall in the corridor.
It was Mason and Emily. Their arms wrapped around each other, smiling in sunlight. Emily wore a soft yellow dress, hair swept back. Mason looked younger. Carefree.
Bella didn't look away when Mason came up beside her.
"She loved you," Bella said. "Even when she wrote about being afraid, she never said a bad word about you."
"She was the only good thing I ever had," he replied.
Bella turned. "You've changed."
Mason gave a hollow laugh. "She died. Of course I changed."
There was something in the way he looked at her, guilt carved deep into his eyes. And behind it, fear.
Bella tried to hold his gaze, but she looked away first.
"I used to envy her, you know," she said softly. "Everyone loved Emily. I was always the quiet one. The background."
"Maybe that's why they never saw you coming," Mason said.
That evening, as Mason made tea in the kitchen, Bella explored the manor. She moved through the creaking hallways like a shadow, drawn to the bedroom Emily once called her own.
The door was unlocked. Every surface was covered in dust, as though time had stopped on the day she passed away.
Standing in the middle of the room, Bella allowed her memories to flood her mind. She approached the dresser and touched the top with her fingers. The top drawer was then opened.
Empty.
But something felt… off.
She tapped the wooden panel inside. Hollow.
Pulling gently at the back, her fingers found a gap just enough to slip two fingers in.
And then it gave way.
She pulled out a small velvet pouch. Inside it was a flash drive.
Her hands trembled.
Downstairs, she called out, "Mason!"
Footsteps thundered up the stairs.
He appeared in the doorway. She handed him the pouch, wide-eyed.
"I think she left us more than just a journal."
Mason plugged the flash drive into his old laptop.
There were three files. All video.
The first showed Emily sitting in this very room, the curtains drawn. Her voice was low, her eyes full of fear.
> "If anything happens to me… Bella, Mason, please watch these. I think someone is trying to silence me. And I think it's someone close to us. I'm sorry. I should've told you both sooner."
The video ended with her looking directly into the camera.
> "Bella… you were always stronger than me. You just never believed it."
Bella sat frozen, a tear running down her cheek.
"Play the second one," she whispered.
Mason hesitated—then clicked.
Emily's voice came back, trembling this time. She handed up a white envelope with a name written on it, her hands shaking.
But the name was smudged. Illegible.
> "This is the proof. I was wrong to trust them. I know now who's behind it. And if you're watching this… I'm probably already—"
The screen went black.