The sizzling smell of sausage and eggs woke me from my dreamless sleep. Shifting in the chair, I regrettably slept in with a blanket haphazardly thrown on me sometime in the night. It took a moment to recognize my surroundings and for the tension to ease from my shoulders. The early morning beams shot through the room, breathing new life into the warm wood tones. Outside, the freshly fallen snow glistened a bluish white, reflecting the clear sky above. The air felt lighter, and so did my soul. This was what I had missed.

I reached above my head to stretch just as the library door opened. In came my sister, carrying a tray full of steaming food. She looked a lot better than last night. Her black hair brushed and pulled back into a neat bun. She wore a cozy, oversized beige sweater, dark leggings, and her face looked brighter. Her eyes caught mine, and she gave me a small smile.

"Good morning. You look like you slept well." She said, her voice light and airy.

"Emily..." I started. But she held up her hand, set the tray in my lap and settled into the armchair next to me. Her legs tucked up under her and she stared at her hands, fiddling with the ends of her sleeves.

"Amelia... I'm sorry. About the party and what I said..." she sighed, her brows furrowing as she looked past me to the windows, resting her face in her hand. "I never meant for it to get out of control... I had only invited a few friends. It was supposed to be a night to relax and hang out before the holidays." She met my eyes, and it was then I noticed the dark circles under them and the gauntness of her face. My stomach twisted into knots. "Freywood manor's reputation got the better of me and before I knew it, a bunch of people showed up and I was too far gone to stop it. I'm so sorry." Emily's voice wavered.

I caught her hand and squeezed. "No, I'm sorry, Em, for not being here. Mistakes happen and a house can be fixed." Her fingers were so frail and in the harsh winter sun, she looked like a ghost. She must have caught me staring cause she pulled her hand away, hugged her knees and looked to the floor. "Do you want to talk about it? I know I haven't checked in as often as I should have. But I'm here now and I am staying." I emphasized the last word, tilting my head to catch her glassy eyes.

The ghost of a smile blessed her face for a moment and she sniffled. "Not... not right now. But I am getting help."

A weight lifted from my heart and I laid back into the chair. We settled into a somewhat comfortable silence while I ate the food she brought me. Worry persisted, and I pondered the cause of her sudden fall in health. All I could do right now was to be here. She would tell me when she was ready.

I watched as my sister looked around the room, sank into her chair, leg outstretched and a sleepy smile spread across her face. It was the power of the library. I didn't quite understand it, but I think it had to do with the light airiness of it. The warm tones and floor to ceiling windows helped to create a serene space. A bittersweet smile spread across my face. I never realized just how much I missed her.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to the envelope in my lap.

Oh! "It's a letter. I found it here after I cleaned it." I said, showing her the envelope. Emily's brows furrowed.

"That's Mother's handwriting." she said.

"Mother's?" My hands trembled as I unfolded the yellowed paper. The familiar scrawl of Mother's writing sent a shiver down my spine. I hadn't noticed. My breath caught, and the memories threatened to surface. I had half a mind to toss it aside. The ramblings of a mad woman would only bring pain. But my heart compelled me to read. I had to know.

Amelia,

Oh god. A tight knot formed in my chest.

I am so scared. I feel my mind slipping from me with each passing day. Cracks are forming and I am having a harder time discerning fact from fantasy. I write this letter now, while my mind is still clear in the hopes that you will find it. There is something hidden within the estate. I can feel it. Like a faint mist on the wind. Your father knew. He would not tell me, but I could tell he was hiding something. I believe the cracks in my mind are linked to his disappearance. And that library he spent so much time in. His whole family and their history are shrouded in secrets. I've tried searching myself, but it's tied to the bloodline. I don't want to hurt you or your sister. Thinking about what might happen if my mind breaks completely terrifies me. You must find your father! Please know that no matter what happens. I love you. And I believe in you.

I stopped, my heart racing, and I scanned the paper again. Each sentence sank into me like a sharp blade. Cutting through the anger and fear. The memories of that night blurred, losing their sharp edge. I could almost hear my mother's voice, trembling with fear, as she held onto the last threads of sanity. The letter was a cry for help, a plea from a woman who knew she was slipping away. I don't want to hurt you. Deep down, I always knew this. One does not go from a loving mother to nearly killing their eldest daughter. Her snap had been so sudden. And the mention of Father. His disappearance. I tried to think back to that time. The hours he spent holed up in the library. His head buried in a mountain of books. What had he been doing those long nights? How was I supposed to find him?

I love you. And I believe in you.

Tears danced in the corner of my eyes. If I found Father. If I solved this mystery. Could I fix my family? Not only for my sake, but for my sister? My grandmother? It wouldn't be the same. That wasn't even a possibility, but it would be better than now.

"Well?" Emily asked, startling me. "What does it say?"

I had forgotten she was there. Could I tell her? Would she think I was mad, just like Mother? I stared at Emily, watching as her eyes shifted from mine to the letter. Her brows arched and worry lines creased around her eyes.

I handed her the letter. The last thing this family needed was more secrets. I didn't want to cause her any more stress than what she was already dealing with, but hiding this would not help bridge the gap between us. Hell, maybe she would help me solve this.

Her worry deepened as she read.

"She knew something was wrong." I said, my voice hoarse. "Something connected to the estate and my father."

Emily frowned. "Do you think she was right? Or was it just the illness?"

"I don't..." I hesitated. A realization hit me. The key! I sat up and reached into my pocket. The small golden key shimmered. "Emily, did you send this to me?" I asked and handed her the key with the strange card. She took it tentatively and twirled the key in her hand, looking between the note and mother's letter.

"No... I didn't. And this isn't Mother's handwriting either."

"Grandmother's maybe?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Grandma hasn't set foot on the property since she took us in. I think what happened here still haunts her. Plus, I'd recognized her handwriting as well. This is different."

Strange. If no one in the family sent the note and key, then who did? Father, perhaps? It was unlikely, but not impossible. I just couldn't think why he would stay away. Mother believed his disappearance held greater significance. He didn't just run away from his family. He couldn't have.

"There's an engraving of some kind." Emily said, holding the key up in the light.

"What? Really?" Etched into the side, barely discernible from the grooves of the key, was a slew of symbols. How could I have missed this? Scolding myself, I squinted, took the key, and set it down on the desk. The whole plane ride here, I examined the key. There was no sort of engraving on it then! After finding a pen and paper, I carefully stenciled the engraving onto the paper. Emily peered over my shoulder as I wracked my brain about where I had seen it before.

Φύλακες τῆς πύλης

"Does it look familiar?" Emily asked, her brows furrowing.

My eyes widened, and I wished the library had its vast collection of dictionaries. "It's Greek!"

"Greek? Do you know what it says?" She asked and picked up the key to examine the etching. I tried to recall the language class I took during my second semester, but the word's meaning eluded me.

"No, I don't." I mumbled. "Fee-lahk-es tis pe-lis." the words felt clumsy in my mouth, their foreignness evident in each syllable. My pronunciation would horrify any Greek speaker, but the moment the final word left my lips, a strange sensation washed over me.

At first it was nothing more than a faint hum, barely perceptible, like a distant buzz of electricity. I shook my head. It must have been my imagination. My mind was a wreck after that letter. But then the hum grew, like a low rumble of a far off storm.

"Do you hear that?" I asked, glancing at the windows, at the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. Deep within my chest came a strange pull, like a sting wrapped around my heart. I stood abruptly from the desk chair and a tingling sensation ran down my body. From my head down to my toes.

"No... Amelia, are you ok—Ah!" Emily yelped, dropping the key and shook her hand as if it had shocked her. I reached out to catch it. The hum filling my ears, so loud it drowned out everything else. Everything slowed to a crawl as the key landed in my hand. The room tilted, and I was falling—not down, but through.

"Amelia!" my sister's voice sounded distant, muffled, as if she was speaking behind a pane of glass. Her eyes were wide and mouth agape as she reached for me. She looked so scared. Her name stuck in my throat. The room dissolved around me, the walls and furniture fading like puffs of smoke. Darkness swirled at the edges of my vision. Then, like a snap, everything was gone. My sister, the library, and possibly my sanity.

© Copr. 2024. Jessica Powell. All Rights Reserved.