Nathan lay still on the basement floor, blinking up at the ceiling's wooden beams. The air smelled damp of mildew, stone, and silence. He had counted every groove in the floorboards. The initials he’d carved into the wood earlier stared back at him: N.H. It was a small act, but it made him feel better, a reminder that he still existed, even if this family wanted to erase him.His fingers ran over the metal clasp of the small tool he’d hidden behind a loose stone, a trick he’d learned from years in foster care. He’d waited hours, timing the footsteps above, memorizing the shift changes of the guards and servants. Now it was quiet. This was the moment.With a soft click, the lock opened. Nathan opened the basement door, wincing at the quiet creak. The hallway was dim, the old mansion surroundings quiet. He moved like a ghost, barefoot, tense, each step echoing softly on the cold marble floor.Nathan knew exactly where he was going—the library.It was the one room he’d never been allowed

Nathan’s hands trembled slightly as he twisted open the doorknob to Liam’s room. The hallway was quiet, most of the family still out back where the party continued, he had maybe ten minutes, at most.He stepped inside and shut the door carefully behind him. The room smelled like expensive cologne and leather, polished and perfect on the surface, just like Liam but Nathan knew better now. He moved fast, ignoring the drawers since they were too easy to check. Instead, he went to the small bookcase near the bed and knelt down. He noticed a loose panel at the back. When he pressed it gently, it moved.Behind it, hidden in the space, was one envelope.He took it out. There was no address or stamp—just a folded letter written in Cassandra’s handwriting.His chest tightened as he opened it.“Liam,I’m writing this because I don’t know how to say it without you twisting it against me. I’m tired. Every time I try to speak, you cut me down. You call it teasing, but it wears me down. When you s

Nathan found Emma in the library, her favorite hiding place, gently running her fingers along the spine of a book she wasn’t really paying attention to.“You said something about Liam intimidating someone else,” Nathan began quietly.Emma turned. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”“Emma,” he said, his voice low. “Please, you know what he’s doing, you saw what happened to Cassandra. If there’s something you’re not saying, you’re only helping him.”She looked torn and trapped between fear and guilt then she turned slowly and nodded.“It was Lucas, last year, he caught Liam yelling at Cassandra he said he’d tell Marjorie. The next day, Liam pulled him aside, I don’t know what he said, but after that, Lucas stopped talking. He avoided Cassandra and avoided all of us.”“Would Lucas admit it?” Nathan asked.Emma shook her head. “Not in front of Liam but maybe in private.”That was enough for now, Nathan left her with a quiet thank you and went to find Lucas.He spotted him near the tennis co

Nathan sat in the back garden, holding the recording device in his hand. He had quietly asked Cassandra to meet him before the family brunch. Now they stood under the old fig tree, the same place their younger cousins used to play. Cassandra looked nervous, her eyes flicking toward the house.“You sure no one followed you?” she whispered.Nathan nodded, then offered her the recorder. “Just listen.”She did. Her fingers gripped the plastic tighter. When Liam’s voice snapped at Lucas, telling him to shut up or risk “ruining what little future he had left”—Cassandra flinched. She held the recorder a moment longer, then gave it back quickly, like it was hot.“That’s real,” Nathan said softly. “Lucas didn’t make that up. Neither did I.”“I know,” she whispered. “I never thought you did.”“Then help me. We can play it at brunch. People need to hear—”“No.” Her voice cracked. “Nathan, if we play that in front of everyone, he’ll lose it. He’ll find a way to turn it on us. On Emma, on Lucas!”

Cassandra’s hands trembled. “I tried. I thought—if they knew...”“You did the right thing,” Nathan said.“Did I?” she asked. “They’re still protecting him.”“Not all of them,” Emma said. “Some of them are listening. They just don’t know what to believe yet.”Cassandra turned to leave. “I need air.”Nathan didn’t stop her. He couldn’t blame her. He looked to Emma instead. “It wasn’t enough.”“It was a beginning,” she said.He gave a bitter laugh. “A beginning that got shut down.”“No. A beginning that made people uncomfortable, that means it mattered.”He didn’t answer.Nathan sat down, the USB still clutched in his fingers. Emma joined him.“They’re afraid of what it means to believe us,” she said quietly.“I know.”“But Cassandra spoke, that matters, even if they pretend it doesn’t.”—--Nathan hadn’t slept, he went in hoping to make peace. Instead, he left feeling like a stranger in his own home.That morning, while wandering aimlessly down the hallway outside the guest rooms, he pa