27. Caeleb

Finn stops talking immediately, because he knows Im right. Theres no two ways around this. Emily was obviously inconvenienced by something, and she thought the best approach would be to leave without telling us. Barring the courtesy of a letter and a key to Harveys mansion, of course.

I guess I should be honored that she at least thought of this much. Finally, I take the note from Silas and rip it into small pieces, taking immense pleasure in the sounds of the paper getting torn. The others dont stop me.

So, what do we do next? Finn asks, his tone heavy.

I dont know, Silas replies curtly. This wasnt on the memo.

I bark out a harsh laugh. Tell me about it.

The stillness on Emilys porch is almost tangible, each of us lost in our own storm of thoughts. The early morning tranquility mocks our turmoil, the pleasant chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves in stark contrast to the chaos unfolding between us. I cant remember the last time we were all this quiet for so long. Were usually quick with a joke or a plan, but Emilys note has gutted that part of us, at least for now.

Finally, Silas breaks the silence, his voice razor-sharp, cutting through the stillness like a knife. This is bullshit, he declares, standing up abruptly, his anger so overt I can feel it on my skin. Hes always been the most straightforward among us, the fire to Finns water and my earth. We bent over backward for her, gave her everything. And this is how she repays us? By running away without a damn word?

Finn, hopeful beyond any sane reason, tries to interject, but Silas is on a roll, his fury not to be quenched. No, Finn. We need to face it. We worshipped her, let her have the free run of all three of us. We loved and honored her. He kicks at a loose pebble on the porch, sending it skittering across the wooden boards. And for what? For her to leave like we meant nothing?

I cant say I disagree with him. The sting of betrayal is fresh, a wound that refuses to be ignored. Hes right, I agree, trying to sound steady and failing. We made immense sacrifices for her. We put her on a pedestal, and she just up and left. Without even an explanation of where we went wrong.

Maybe we missed something, Finn says stubbornly. Caeleb, do you think this could have anything to do with that night in the vineyards?

Again, a fresh ripple of unease goes up my spine. Is Emily leaving my fault? Did someone threaten her.

I open and close my mouth before shaking my head like a fish out of water. I dont know, I admit miserably. Maybe it is. Maybe this is all my fault.

Silas is beside me in an instant. He drops his arm on my shoulder. No, its not. If something happened, she could have come to us. We told her that wed stand by her no matter what, that this—her— He stops talking and shakes his other hand in the air.

I know what hes trying to say. Emily had become our cross to bear, and we would have done it willingly. We loved her.

We still do.

Silas paces back and forth, his movements a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. We deserve better, he finally says, stopping to face us. All of us. We cant let her do this to us. We move on. We focus on finding out what her dads letter was about, get to the bottom of this secret room nonsense, and then we close this chapter for good.

Finn nods, the resolve in his eyes mirroring Silass. Our logic has worn him out. Hes also fidgeting with his phone, which tells me hes tried texting Emily and heard nothing back. A surge of anger rises, fresh and hot in my chest. Emily could have done this differently. Hell, shes got a sister whos a detective. If her departure had something to do with that night, Id have gone to hell and back to fix things.

Thats kind of impossible when I have no fucking clue whats going on.

She made her choice. Its time we make ours. Finn looks at me, seeking affirmation.

I take a deep breath, letting the reality of the situation sink in. Emily is gone, and pining after her, wondering about the whys and what-ifs, wont change that fact. Alright, I agree, the decision feeling like a weight lifting, even if its just slightly. Weve got a mystery to solve. Lets not give her the satisfaction of seeing us fall apart.

We gather our composure, tucking away the hurt and the betrayal, replacing it with a shared purpose. Theres work to be done, secrets to uncover. We head inside the mansion, the door closing behind us with a definitive thud, a symbolic end to our pondering and a beginning to our renewed focus.

Ill be damned if Im coming back to this mansion again. I have work to do in the vineyards, but I dont want to cross this threshold. So we finish what we need to, and we get out of here.

Sweat plasters my shirt to my back, the heat turning this whole treasure hunt into a miserable endurance test. Finn and Silas flank me as we approach the monstrosity that is Harveys mansion.

Remember, Finn mutters through gritted teeth, eyes scanning the overgrown gardens like were enemy troops, Harvey couldve hidden that map anywhere.

Yeah, well, the riddle sounds like were staying outside, I mutter, wiping a bead of sweat from my brow. If theres one thing I hate, its riddles as much as this damned humidity.

We split up, each of us claiming a wing of the mansion. One wrong move, and decades of searching for Harveys alleged fortune could be wasted. Stepping through the massive front doors, Im greeted by a cavernous entrance hall. Dust motes glitter in the faded sunlight streaming through a stained glass window, reflecting a weariness that mirrors my own

My boots click on the marble floors as I weave through the ground floor. Each room feels like a museum exhibit—grand pianos, oil paintings of people whose powdered wigs make me shiver, and enough gold leaf to sink a ship. I try doors, peer behind curtains, even crawl under a dusty divan, but theres no sign of a map, or anything resembling a clue.

Any luck? Silas hisses from the shadows of an archway.

I shake my head. Place is a ghost town. Dust bunnies the size of tumbleweeds, but no map.

Kitchen? Finn calls from somewhere down the hall. His voice is taut and a little too high-pitched. Even easygoing Finn cant hide his impatience.

We converge in the basketball court-sized kitchen. While Silas rummages through the pantry, I yank open the fridge and wince at how empty it is. What the hell was Emily eating? My stomach growls a protest. It was a bad move, tossing the picnic basket the way I did.

Sandwiches anyone? I offer, hauling out what I can from the fridge. Theres butter, lettuce, tomato—and, thank heavens, bread.

I try the freezer and manage to retrieve a scarce bit of bacon. Minutes later, our stomachs rumble as I finish whipping up three simple sandwiches.

We scarf down our food on the kitchen island, the hum of the fridge the only sound. Coffee—strong and black—washes away some of the fatigue, leaving behind a familiar tingle of determination.

Alright, riddle time, Finn announces, crumpling his sandwich wrapper and tossing it into an overflowing bin. Where did Harvey want to escape to?

Some tropical island, Silas suggests, kicking back on a stool. Dude hated the cold.

Nah, Harvey never said that, and the riddle doesnt mention beaches, I counter. Its vague … something about shadows …

Finn leans in, a fire in his eyes I havent seen for months. Remember how his old man died? The car wreck?

Silass eyes widen. Dude, Harvey swore hed never drive, hated cars.

And he always went on about how his mom would be better off a widow, Finn adds. Escape—maybe it isnt a place, but a way of life?

We read the confounded riddle again, and it still makes zero sense. Finn is onto something, though. This isnt about location, its about unlocking some secret Harvey carried all his life.

His mom … I begin, the gears in my brain starting to turn. Where did she hang out most?

Finn snaps his fingers. Library. She loved to read. Hes already at the kitchen door, a blur of motion. Come on!

We tear through the mansion and burst out the back porch. Sprawling grounds, a massive pool … the afternoon sun beats down mercilessly. Its unseasonably hot, or maybe its my own heart still burning. Finn sprints across the lawn, Silas and I hot on his heels. He doesnt head for the willow tree by the old fountain, though. Instead, he vanishes behind a structure almost hidden by overgrown ivy.

Harvey, for all his wealth, has an entire mini house dedicated to books, records, and old films. The door stands ajar. Without a word, driven by a mix of curiosity and a desperate need to cool off, I step inside.

Its as if Ive entered a portal to another time. Sunlight, filtering through a stained-glass window depicting knights and dragons, casts rainbows across a worn Persian rug beneath my feet. The air hangs heavy, a comforting blend of old paper, vanilla, and the faintest touch of sandalwood. Its the kind of scent that makes you want to curl up and lose yourself.

Mahogany shelves, polished to a warm gleam, climb towards a ceiling frescoed with constellations long faded. Each shelf is a treasure trove: leather-bound classics with gold-embossed titles, dog-eared paperbacks, and volumes so ancient their covers have turned brittle with age. Whimsical carvings—grinning gargoyles, wise-eyed owls, even a mermaid perched atop a stack of nautical histories—peek out from the shadows.

My fingers dance across the spines, a symphony of textures against my skin. Cracked cloth, pebbled leather, faded velvet—each tells a story of its own. A whisper of movement draws my gaze to a bookcase nestled deep within an alcove. The worn velvet curtains framing it stir as if caught by a phantom breeze.

There, bathed in a sliver of sunlight, rests a single book. Its golden spine gleams softly, the faded lettering hinting at lost secrets. It feels alive, humming with a gentle warmth beneath my touch. I swear I can hear my name whispered on the wind, a silent invitation into a world of mystery and untold treasures.

Caeleb, over here! Finn yells, but his voice sounds distant.

Without thinking, I reach for the golden spine. My fingers barely brush it when the entire bookcase groans. Before I can even yell out in surprise, it slides forward with a thunderous rumble.

And reveals … darkness. A hidden passageway shimmers where there should be nothing.