Chapter 21: Crawling Secrets

When I got home, everything felt… distant. The tires of my car crunched softly against the gravel, but it was like the sound was coming from miles away. My body moved on its own—slow, heavy, almost lifeless—as I stepped out and shut the car door. The mansion loomed before me, tall and quiet, its windows glowing faintly like watchful eyes. Normally, I would have found comfort in that familiar glow, but tonight it felt foreign—like I didn’t belong here anymore.

I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked up the driveway, my heels barely making a sound against the marble. The night breeze brushed against my skin, cool and soft, but I couldn’t feel any of it properly. My mind was still stuck back at the club. On Kevin. On Sarah. On everything that had just happened.

Each step toward the house felt heavier than the last. By the time I reached the base of the stairs, I stopped for a second, trying to pull myself together. My hands were trembling, so I pressed them against my sides to steady them, but it didn’t help. The ache inside me was too raw, too loud.

And then I saw her.

Nina.

She was in the garden, standing near the trimmed hedges under the faint light of the lamp posts, her phone pressed to her ear. Her voice was low, urgent, the kind of whisper people use when they don’t want to be overheard. She was pacing a little, her other hand gesturing in short, quick movements like she was trying to make a point to whoever was on the other end.

I froze on the staircase, half-hidden by the shadows. Something about the sight made me pause.

Why was she outside making a call this late? Why not do it from her room, or the study, or literally anywhere inside the house?

It was strange. And maybe—just maybe—I was reading too much into it.

But ever since what I saw tonight, my mind refused to trust anything or anyone. Everything suddenly had layers, meanings, possibilities I hadn’t considered before.

I stared at her for a while, long enough to notice how tense her shoulders were. She wasn’t calm. Her movements were sharp, defensive. I couldn’t hear the words, but I could tell from the way she kept glancing around that she didn’t want anyone to see her.

When she finally ended the call, she stood still for a moment, exhaling deeply before slipping her phone into her pocket. Then she turned her head slightly—toward the house—and for a split second, I thought her eyes caught mine.

I quickly looked away. My heart skipped.

Was I being paranoid? Maybe she was just talking to someone privately, maybe it wasn’t anything suspicious. But the way she moved, the way she kept checking over her shoulder—it didn’t sit right with me.

I took a slow breath and forced myself up the steps, pretending not to have noticed her. My shoes clicked faintly against the stone, a small reminder that I was still here, still moving, even when everything inside me wanted to stop.

When I reached the front door, I hesitated before turning the handle. The house beyond was quiet—eerily so. I could almost hear my own thoughts bouncing off the silence.

Maybe I was overthinking. Maybe my mind was just spiraling because I couldn’t process what I’d seen earlier. Sarah’s face. Kevin’s guilt. The way everything I thought was solid between us shattered in one night.

Still, a small voice in the back of my head whispered that something wasn’t right here either. That maybe Nina had her own share of secrets—ones she kept buried just deep enough that no one noticed.

As I scurried up the stairs, I tried to keep my thoughts from collapsing into the same loop of pain and confusion, but something caught my attention—a faint, glistening speck on the step ahead. I stopped, squinting. It looked dark, almost brown under the dim hallway light. Then I noticed another one just above it. And another.

Small red dots.

I frowned and bent slightly, running my gaze over the staircase. The spots weren’t random—they formed a faint trail, leading upward. My stomach tightened instantly.

At first, I tried to convince myself it was nothing. Maybe someone spilled juice, or wine, or paint… anything but what I was beginning to think it was. But as I climbed higher, the color deepened, and the metallic smell hit me faintly in the air.

Blood.

My breath hitched so sharply that I pressed a hand over my mouth to stop the sound that almost escaped me. For a second, my whole body froze. Every muscle in me locked up. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, pounding like a drum.

Blood. Inside the house.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to move. Step by step, I followed the small, uneven drops—each one like a breadcrumb leading me somewhere I didn’t want to go. The trail curved past the hallway corner, its end barely visible under the warm hallway lights that suddenly felt too dim, too far away.

The closer I got, the heavier the air became. The smell was stronger here—iron, raw and unsettling.

When I finally realized where the trail was leading, my chest squeezed painfully.

Catherine’s room.

Stephen’s mother. The house help who’d been here for as long as I could remember, always moving quietly through the halls with her warm smile and her calm, motherly presence.

The blood led straight to her door.

I stopped just in front of it, staring at the faint smear on the doorknob. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Had she hurt herself? Did something happen to her? Why hadn’t anyone else noticed this?

The house was silent. Too silent.

I lifted my trembling hand toward the doorknob, hesitating as a chill ran through my body. My fingertips brushed against the metal—it was cold, slick.

And just when I was about to turn it—

“I didn’t know you were back…”

The voice came from behind me, low and calm but sharp enough to cut right through my chest.

I flinched so hard my heart nearly leapt out of me. I turned around quickly, my hand still frozen mid-air.

Nina stood a few feet away in the hallway, her phone gone, her expression unreadable in the faint light. Her posture was relaxed, too relaxed for someone who’d just stumbled upon the same scene I had.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The silence stretched like a wire between us.

I could feel the weight of her gaze as it flickered from me to the faint streaks on the floor. Then back to me again.

Her lips curved into something small and strange—half a smile, half a question—but her eyes didn’t match it.

“I… uh…” I stammered, lowering my hand slightly, trying to look less startled than I was. “I just… thought I saw something.”

My voice sounded thinner than I intended.

Nina’s eyes lingered on the doorknob. “It’s late,” she said softly, almost kindly, but there was an edge under it. “You should be resting, Abby. You look… tired.”

Her tone made my stomach twist.

I nodded automatically, though I didn’t move. I couldn’t—not with that door right there, not with the smell of blood faint in the air between us.

But Nina stepped closer, her heels silent against the polished floor, and without breaking eye contact, she reached out and gently shut the door to Catherine’s room herself. The soft click of the latch made my skin crawl.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” she added, her voice low, deliberate. “I’ll handle whatever’s going on.”

My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I watched her hand linger on the doorknob before she turned away, her expression smoothing into something calm—too calm.

As she walked down the hallway, I just stood there, frozen, staring at the closed door.

The blood trail ended there.