Chapter 122 The Abandoned House

Chapter 122 The Abandoned House
Aleli

THE HEAVY iron gate creaked as the driver pushed it open.

The old hired vehicle rolled slowly down a narrow, bumpy dirt road surrounded by tall weeds and overgrown trees. Gray clouds covered the morning sun, casting the entire property in a dark, forgotten gloom.

I leaned my head against the cool car window, staring at the structure waiting for us at the end of the road.

It was a two-story house made of dark wood and faded gray concrete. Peeling paint revealed damp, weather-damaged wood beneath, while most of the upper-floor windows were covered with thick wooden boards.

There were no neighboring houses in sight, only wild brush and dense forest stretching in every direction.

The vehicle stopped near the front porch. The driver stepped out, opened my door, and silently waited.

“We are here, Aleli,” Aunt Grace said from beside me. She adjusted her dark coat and offered me a soft smile that never reached her cold eyes. “Step outside. The fresh country air will do you good.”

My legs felt weak as I stepped onto the muddy ground. The air smelled of wet earth, dry leaves, and decay. There were no passing cars, distant voices, or signs of life. The silence was absolute, pressing against my chest like a metal band.

Aunt Grace climbed the wooden steps. The floorboards groaned beneath her feet as she pulled a heavy brass key from her leather purse and unlocked the thick wooden door.

“Come in, my dear.”

I hesitated before stepping across the threshold.

The house was freezing, stripped of anything that made it feel lived in. A dusty couch sat in the center of the nearly empty living room, facing a broken fireplace.

Gray dust covered the floorboards, outlining where furniture had once stood. There were no lamps, rugs, or curtains, only dirty windows letting in weak daylight.

I reached for the light switch.

Nothing happened.

“The main power line was disconnected years ago,” Aunt Grace explained as she closed the door behind us. “We have a small generator out back. It powers the water pump and a few outlets. It is more than enough for what we need.”

I looked around the dark room, my heart beating faster.

“Aunt Grace… what is this place? Why did you bring me here?”

“I told you, Aleli.” She walked toward the couch and ran a gloved finger along its dusty back. “The media is relentless. They are outside your apartment, your school, even my estate. You are in no condition to deal with them. You need somewhere quiet to rest and recover.”

“This place looks abandoned,” I whispered, pulling my sweater tighter around myself. “There is no heat. There are no neighbors. How am I supposed to stay here?”

“It is only temporary.” Her voice remained smooth. “Once the scandal dies down and people forget those hotel photos, we will decide what comes next. Until then, you need peace.”

My hands trembled inside my pockets. Something about this place felt wrong.

I pulled out my phone and checked the signal.

Nothing.

The screen displayed No Service.

“I need to call Malcolm,” I said quickly, moving toward the door. “He promised he would check on me today. He is going to worry if I don't answer his messages.”

Before I could do anything else, Aunt Grace stepped into my path.

Her movement was so quick that I barely reacted before she snatched the phone from my hand.

“Hey!” I reached for it. “Give that back!”

She slipped it into the deep pocket of her coat and zipped it shut. Her expression hardened.

“You are not calling anyone, Aleli.”

“Malcolm is not toxic!” I shouted, frustration burning behind my eyes. “He is trying to help me! You can't just take my phone. You can't keep me here!”

I turned toward the front door and grabbed the brass handle.

I pulled.

Nothing happened.

My stomach dropped.

I rattled the handle again, harder this time, but the heavy wooden door remained firmly shut. When I looked down, I saw the thick brass deadbolt turned into place.

It was locked from the outside.

My breath caught.

I turned around slowly, my back pressing against the door.

“Why is the door locked?” My voice broke. “Aunt Grace, why am I locked inside? Why are you treating me like a prisoner?”

She stood in the middle of the dim room.

The warmth disappeared from her face.

Her eyes became cold and flat as she adjusted her leather gloves and looked at me as though I were a foolish child.

“Because you don't know how to protect yourself anymore,” she said quietly.

I stared at her.

“You listen to young boys who make foolish promises. You dig into things that should remain buried. You ask questions about missing files and court records without understanding the danger you bring upon yourself.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“You forced my hand, Aleli.”

“I didn't do anything wrong!” I cried, wiping a tear from my cheek.

“You are weak,” she replied without hesitation. “Your mind is broken, and you are far too easy to manipulate. Until you learn to obey me, you will stay here where no one can use you against us.”

She turned and walked down the narrow hallway toward the kitchen.

“Aunt Grace!”

She ignored me.

A moment later, the back door slammed shut.

Then came the unmistakable metallic click of another deadbolt locking into place.

I ran through the dark house and pounded against the kitchen door.

“Aunt Grace! Open the door!”

I screamed until my throat burned, but there was no answer.

Through the high kitchen window, I heard the faint rumble of the vehicle starting. The sound grew quieter as it traveled down the dirt road, eventually disappearing into the silence of the forest.

She was gone.

I was completely alone.

I sank onto the cold wooden floor and buried my face against my knees as sobs tore through my chest. Outside, the gray daylight slowly disappeared beneath the clouds, and night settled over the isolated property.

Hours passed.

The cold seeped through my clothes until my teeth chattered. Eventually, I forced myself upstairs and found a small bedroom containing nothing but a bare mattress on the floor.

I curled into a ball and wrapped my arms around myself, desperately trying to stay warm.

Sometime during the night, a sound pulled me from sleep.

CREAK.

My eyes snapped open.

I held my breath.

A heavy footstep sounded from the hallway outside my bedroom.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

CREAK. CREAK.

Someone was walking slowly down the corridor.

I slipped off the mattress and crossed the dusty floor as quietly as I could. My hand closed around the cold metal handle.

I opened the door an inch.

The hallway was empty.

The footsteps had faded toward the stairs, leaving only a cold breeze moving through the house.

I stepped into the corridor and approached the staircase, my pulse pounding in my ears. I looked down into the dim living room.

Something sat on the small wooden table.

A medium-sized cardboard box.

It had not been there when we arrived.

I slowly descended the stairs, unable to take my eyes off it. When I reached the table, I noticed the top flaps were already folded open.

With trembling hands, I reached inside.

The first thing I pulled out was an old stuffed bear with one missing button eye.

I froze.

I knew that bear.

It was the exact toy I had slept with when I was five years old.

Beneath it were several childhood drawings, an old pair of tiny shoes, and a framed photograph of my parents that had disappeared from our family home years ago.

My fingers trembled as I picked up the photograph.

Why would Aunt Grace bring these things here?

I looked back into the box.

At the very bottom was a small wooden box.

Unlike everything else, it was sealed.

I had never seen it before.

Not in our family home. Not in any photograph. Not in any memory.

I slowly reached down and touched its smooth wooden lid.

A strange chill ran through me.

Whatever was inside that box had been hidden from me my entire life.

And somehow, Aunt Grace had brought it here.