Echoes of her voice
Chapter 7 – Echoes of Her Voice
The walls breathed with secrets.
Ava knelt beside Evelyn’s bed, unable to look away. The woman’s face was pale but untouched by time. Her hair, dark and fanned out over the pillow, looked as though it had been brushed only days ago. She looked peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
And yet, her lips had moved.
Ava clutched her chest, heart thudding. The words echoed in her head: Not too late, Ava. Not yet.
She waited, breath caught, for more.
But Evelyn remained still.
Ava leaned closer. “Evelyn? Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
She glanced around the room. Shadows clung to the corners. The candle flickered, its flame weakening as if something were drawing from its energy.
Then came the sound—soft, like a sigh. Or a breath.
Evelyn’s.
Ava gasped.
She is alive.
Faint, but unmistakable.
Ava pressed her fingers to Evelyn’s wrist. A flutter. A pulse.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, tears welling. “You’re alive. You’ve been alive this whole time.”
The urge to run to Damon and scream the truth battled with the fear that had been building for days.
He locked her here.
He kept her hidden. Forgotten.
He might kill to keep it that way.
Ava shook her head. No. She had to be smart.
First, she needed answers. She needed to understand what Evelyn had been through. Why she was kept alive but hidden. And why the house itself seemed steeped in her sorrow.
The candle threatened to go out. Ava stood and scanned the room for supplies. A few broken jars. A jug of water, long dried. Dusty blankets folded neatly in a corner. Whoever had left this space prepared it for long-term confinement.
Evelyn hadn’t died.
She’d been entombed.
Ava lifted one of the blankets and covered Evelyn’s fragile body. The woman didn’t stir, but the color in her cheeks seemed warmer now. Her presence more grounded.
Was she waking?
Another whisper curled through the air. But this time, it wasn’t Evelyn’s voice.
It was a lullaby.
Soft. Melancholic. Familiar.
Ava turned toward the tunnel.
Someone was humming.
Her blood ran cold.
She snuffed the candle, plunging the chamber into darkness. She clutched the edge of the stone wall, listening. The sound was distant, echoing through the hidden passage.
She waited until it faded.
Who else knows about this place?
She had to leave.
With one last glance at Evelyn, Ava whispered, “I’ll come back. I promise.”
She crawled back through the tunnel, her hands scraping along stone and soil. The path felt longer now, heavier with fear. When she reached the panel behind the vanity and pushed it open, relief flooded her chest.
She was back.
In her room.
But not alone.
Damon sat in her chair.
His face was calm, but his eyes—they burned.
“Where did you go, Ava?”
She stood, frozen. “I was… looking for Emilia.”
“Lying doesn’t suit you.”
He rose slowly. “You found the room, didn’t you?”
Ava stayed silent.
“Answer me,” he growled.
“I found Evelyn,” she said. “She’s alive, Damon. You kept her down there. Why?”
He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You weren’t supposed to know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Damon stepped closer. “She lost herself, Ava. After Emilia was born. She started hearing voices. Speaking to shadows. I tried to help her. But she hurt herself. She tried to hurt Emilia.”
Ava flinched. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you want.”
“So you locked her underground? Left her to rot?”
“I kept her alive!” he snapped. “No institution could handle her. No doctor could fix her. So I did what I had to.”
“You imprisoned her!”
Damon’s expression twisted into something unreadable.
“You weren’t here. You don’t know what she became.”
“She was a mother,” Ava said. “And she wrote you letters. She begged for help. And you ignored her.”
His silence was confirmation enough.
“I won’t let you keep her hidden anymore,” Ava said. “She deserves to be free.”
“She’s dangerous,” Damon hissed. “You don’t understand what you’ve unleashed.”
He moved to the door.
“If you care about Emilia, stay out of it.”
And then he was gone.
Ava slumped onto the bed, shaking.
He knew.
And now she was a threat.
---
The next day passed in a haze.
Emilia clung to Ava during their lessons, asking questions she couldn’t answer.
“Are you mad at Daddy?” she asked, head tilted.
Ava smiled tightly. “No. Just confused.”
Emilia traced her fingers over her drawing. “Mommy used to get confused. Then she went away.”
Ava’s heart cracked.
“Do you remember her?”
Emilia nodded. “She sang better than me.”
That night, Ava waited until the house went still.
She returned to the hidden chamber.
But Evelyn was gone.
The bed was empty.
The letters still lay on the blanket.
But the woman had vanished.
Ava spun around, panic flooding her veins.
“Evelyn?”
No answer.
She crawled through the tunnel, checked the vanity room, the passage, the hall.
Nothing.
Then she heard it.
Music.
Faint. Melodic.
The piano.
The music room.
Ava ran.
Through the east wing. Down the hall.
The door stood ajar.
She pushed it open.
Evelyn sat at the piano.
Her fingers moved fluidly across the keys, her white gown glowing in the moonlight. Her hair hung loose down her back. She looked otherworldly.
Ava stepped inside. “Evelyn?”
The music stopped.
The woman turned slowly.
Her eyes met Ava’s. And she smiled.
“He’s afraid,” Evelyn whispered. “Afraid of what I remember.”
“What do you remember?”
She touched the keys again. A soft chord.
“I didn’t lose my mind. I saw something. In this house. Before Emilia was born.”
Ava moved closer. “What did you see?”
Evelyn’s smile faded. “The house is alive. It feeds on pain. And Damon… he made a deal with it.”
The words chilled Ava to her core.
“A deal?”
Evelyn nodded. “For power. For protection. For wealth. But there was a cost.”
Ava sank into a nearby chair, mind racing.
“What cost?”
Evelyn looked down at the piano. “A soul. A sacrifice. A tether. He offered it me.”
“He tried to kill you?”
Evelyn shook her head. “Worse. He tried to erase me.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Ava leaned forward. “Why tell me this now?”
Evelyn stood, her figure almost floating.
“Because the house chose you next.”
The candles blew out.
And Ava screamed.