Chapter 2 - nine hours before the wedding
Nine hours earlier, Julian had believed the worst thing that could happen that day was rain.
Dark clouds had gathered above Ashford House before sunrise, hanging over the old estate like smoke. The mansion had belonged to Julian’s family for five generations. Its eastern wing had once been part of St. Agnes, a private home for abandoned children that had closed thirty years earlier.
Julian had never liked that part of the house.
The corridors were too narrow. The walls were too thick. Sometimes, during winter, he thought he heard movement behind them.
His father had always blamed the pipes.
By ten in the morning, the estate was crowded with florists, musicians, caterers and nearly two hundred guests. White roses filled the chapel. Crystal glasses covered the reception tables. Cameras waited near the marble staircase where Elena would appear.
Julian stood in his father’s former study, attempting to fasten a cuff link, when Marcus entered without knocking.
“You look like a man preparing for trial,” Marcus said.
Julian gave him a tired smile.
“Marriage is supposed to be less expensive.”
“Not the way Elena planned it.”
Marcus crossed to the window. He had been Julian’s closest friend since university and the financial director of the Ashford Foundation for six years. He was the one person Julian trusted with both his business and his family’s legacy.
Yet that morning, Marcus seemed distracted.
“Is something wrong?” Julian asked.
Marcus glanced toward the door before answering.
“There was an attempted break-in last night.”
“Where?”
“The foundation archive.”
Julian stopped adjusting his cuff.
The archive was located beneath the eastern wing. It held property records, legal agreements and sealed files from St. Agnes.
“Was anything taken?”
“We don’t know. The security system went offline for eleven minutes.”
“And you waited until my wedding day to tell me?”
“Elena asked me not to disturb you.”
Julian frowned.
“Elena knew?”
“She found the archive door open.”
Before Julian could ask another question, the study door opened.
Elena entered in a silk dressing robe. Her dark hair was pinned loosely behind her head. She smiled when she saw him, but the expression seemed to arrive a second too late.
“You are not supposed to see me before the ceremony,” she said.
Marcus moved away from the window.
“I was just leaving.”
Elena watched him go. Only when the door closed did she look at Julian.
“Marcus told you about the archive.”
“He said you found it open.”
“It was probably one of the contractors.”
“Why were you beneath the eastern wing last night?”
Elena’s smile disappeared.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“You went walking in a locked basement because you couldn’t sleep?”
“I was nervous.”
Julian stepped closer. For the first time, he noticed a faint red mark around her wrist, partly concealed by the sleeve.
“What happened to your arm?”
She pulled the fabric down.
“Nothing.”
“Elena.”
“I caught it on a door.”
Julian reached for her hand, but she moved away.
The reaction was small, yet it unsettled him. Elena had never avoided his touch.
He tried to dismiss the feeling as wedding-day nerves.
Then she saw the silver cuff links on his wrists.
Her face changed.
“You found them.”
“My mother gave them to me this morning.”
Elena stared at the engraved symbol on each cuff link: a small crescent moon inside a circle.
“You should not wear those.”
Julian looked at the design.
“Why?”
“They belonged to your father.”
“So?”
“He wore them when he visited St. Agnes.”
Julian studied her.
“You told me you knew almost nothing about St. Agnes.”
Elena blinked, as if realizing she had said too much.
“I read about it in the foundation records.”
“The sealed records?”
A knock interrupted them.
Julian’s younger sister, Claire, stepped into the room.
“Elena, the photographer needs you upstairs.”
Elena moved toward the door without another word.
Claire waited until she was gone.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
Claire closed the door.
“She called me Catherine this morning.”
Julian gave her a confused look.
“Who is Catherine?”
“Our cousin who moved to Canada twelve years ago.”
“Elena knows your name.”
“She corrected herself. But then she asked whether Mother still kept the blue car.”
Their mother had sold the blue car before Julian met Elena.
Claire crossed her arms.
“I know you don’t want to hear this today, but something is wrong.”
Julian glanced through the window. Workers carried flowers across the lawn while guests arrived beneath white umbrellas.
“Elena is under pressure.”
“She has been under pressure for six months. She has never forgotten who I am.”
Julian’s phone vibrated.
The message came from an unknown number.
DO NOT SIGN THE MARRIAGE REGISTER.
A second message appeared before he could respond.
LOOK THROUGH THE CHAPEL WINDOW AT 11:15.
Julian checked the time.
11:14.
He and Claire exchanged a glance.
They hurried from the study and crossed the main hall. Through the tall chapel windows, Julian could see rows of empty chairs and white flowers beneath the stained glass.
At first, there was nothing unusual.
Then a small face appeared behind the narrow lower window.
A frightened girl in a pale dress pressed both hands against the glass.
She looked directly at Julian.
Behind her, a woman’s gloved hand reached out of the darkness.
The girl vanished.
May you like
Julian ran for the chapel door.
It was locked.
