CHAPTER 3: WHAT THE HOUSE WAS HIDING
That night, Crossmoor House didn’t sleep.
Mara stood outside the boys’ hallway, listening.
Not to check on them.
To understand them.
Inside, there were no screams. No crashes. Just whispers.
And the quiet boy’s voice—low, precise.
“He didn’t react when she came in,” one of the twins said.
“She didn’t lie,” another replied.
A pause.
Then the quiet boy spoke again.
“That’s new.”
Mara stepped away from the door.
Behind her, Ruth was waiting.
“You handled dinner,” Ruth said. “That’s what they all do at first.”
“And then?”
Ruth’s eyes darkened slightly. “Then they learn what this house really is.”
Before Mara could answer, footsteps echoed down the hall.
Damon Cross.
He stopped beside her.
For the first time, he didn’t look like a man in control of a fortress. He looked like someone holding the walls together with habit alone.
“You shouldn’t get attached,” he said quietly.
“I’m not here to get attached,” Mara replied.
A faint pause.
Then Damon added, “My sons don’t test people because they’re bored.”
Mara turned slightly. “Then why do they test them?”
Damon’s jaw tightened.
“Because the last person they trusted disappeared.”
Silence hit the hallway harder than thunder.
Ruth looked away.
And somewhere behind the bedroom doors, the quiet boy stood listening.
Damon’s voice dropped lower.
“If you stay, you’ll learn why every nanny leaves.”
Mara met his gaze fully now.
“I already know why,” she said. “It’s because nobody ever stayed long enough to be trusted back.”
For the first time, Damon didn’t have a reply.
The lights of Crossmoor flickered once—like the house itself had heard her.
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And somewhere deep inside its walls, something that had been waiting for years finally started to shift.
End of Part — American English
