Chapter 9

“I’m Luca. Luca Vance.”

The name stirred something. Just a flicker. Running through grass barefoot. A flashlight beam cutting through the dark. Someone laughing, me?

“I… I think I remember you. Kind of.” I squinted. “You used to live… near me? When I was a kid?”

“You were four. Maybe five. My dad used to bring me along when he visited yours.”

“My dad?” I took a step back. “Wait, are you... are you with one of those ‘old families’ Dan keeps hinting at but refuses to explain?”

“That’s a loaded question,” he said, stepping just to the edge of the doorway without coming in. “Can I come in before your neighbors start a conspiracy theory? Or would you prefer I monologue in the parking lot?”

I hesitated for a beat, then stepped aside. My instincts weren’t screaming “danger,” just... “confusing nostalgia.” He walked in like someone who didn’t quite belong in a room but had made peace with it.

“Nice motel. Very murder-mystery chic,” he said, eyeing the tiny table and flickering lamp. “You always stay in places this classy?”

“Only when I’m on the run from red-eyed creeps and contract-breaking husbands.” Luca raised a brow but didn’t ask. I gestured for him to sit, and he took the chair near the table, glancing at the sketchpad.

“You’ve been dreaming of the house,” he said. I frowned. “You saw my drawings.”

“No,” he said simply. “I’ve seen the house.” I stared. “How do you know what I’ve been dreaming?”

“Because I dreamed it, too,” he said. “Or, at least… I used to. That house has always had a way of calling back what it wants. And you, Emerald Peterson, have always belonged to it more than you realize.” My stomach tightened. “You sound like Dan.”

“Well, I’m prettier and less angry, so that’s already an upgrade.” I gave him a flat look. “I still don’t remember you.” He didn’t flinch. “You wouldn’t. Your dad made sure of that.” That stopped me cold.

“What do you mean?” As soon as he said that something felt off about him, my gut started telling me a different story than his mouth is telling.

“After the fire,” He paused, jaw tensing. “After things changed, he pushed away everyone who knew what you were. My father. Me. We were told to stay away. It was too dangerous to keep you connected.” Fire. The word echoed in my mind like it belonged there.

I sat slowly on the edge of the bed. “I was in a fire?”

“Not exactly.” He ran a hand through his hair. “More like... something happened. Something big. The house reacted to you. There were consequences. So your dad did what he thought was best.”

“And now you’re back. Why?”

“Because the fire’s waking up again. Because you are.” A long silence stretched between us, "And you are here to what, take care of it?" Then I muttered, “This still feels like a fever dream.”

“I can poke you if you want,” Luca offered with a smirk. “Strictly scientific.” I rolled my eyes, though a faint smile tugged at my lips. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t,” he said honestly. “But if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have knocked.”Before I could respond, the door opened again. Dan walked in, paper bag of takeout in hand and a tired look on his face. The tired look vanished the moment he saw Luca. Dan’s entire posture changed. The air in the room shifted.

Luca stood casually. “Cross.” Dan's jaw clenched. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was invited. Kind of.” Dan looked at me. “You let him in?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. He said my dad knew his family. Wait, how do you two know each other?” Dan stepped closer, eyes locked on Luca. “Stay away from her.”

“She’s not yours to control.”

“Better me than whatever your family plans,”

“Guys,” I said, standing between them, hands up. “Not the time for ego chess, thanks. I just asked how do you know each other?” They both looked away completely avoiding the question. Luca nodded slowly. “Fair. But she deserves answers.” Dan’s eyes didn’t leave him. “And she’ll get them. From me.” Luca turned back to me. “You’re going to Ridgewater soon, right?”

My throat dried. “Yeah. How do you, ”

“I’ll meet you there,” he said, walking to the door. “Be careful. The house remembers more than we do.” He left without another word.

Dan closed the door behind him harder than necessary.

“You shouldn’t talk to people like him.”

“I barely remember him,” I said, sinking onto the bed again. “But part of me thinks I should.” Dan exhaled, pacing. “He’s dangerous, Emerald.” I looked down at my sketchbook again. The lines had shifted. The house looked... clearer. “I think we all are,” I whispered.

Dan looks over her shoulder at the sketch. “That door wasn’t there before,” he murmurs.

Emerald looks too one small section of the house had changed. A new door. Painted red. And deep inside, she knows: it’s open now. "I don't like this anymore, Dan. It's getting too much for me, I need a break." I said tears running down my face, this amount of information is overwhelming me.

"I thouight you said you liked how powerful it made you feel," He said kneeling down to my eye level, I chuckled drly and nodded. "Now do you want to lose all of that because it suddenly feels too real?" I shook my head, I would have to go back to the boring lifestyle that I was living before all of this. "I'm sorry for crying like this, its just that I feel overwhelmed, it feels like an unending nightmare." He nodded and kissed my forehead before standing up and walking to the bathroom. "We have to get ready to go." did he just kiss me?