Page 82 of Guardian

“Alek, who is it?”

“Lorenzo Devon,” I stated, Katerina’s body stilling beneath my touch. “The tapes and logs of his shifts all showcase a connection to the incidents.”

“But. . . how?” Her eyes trembled as her eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Why would he do this? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know. Tristan simply wants to restrain him before he can do anything else,” I said.

“He was invited to the Ball. I don’t know by who or how. B-but he’s staying behind.” She lowered her gaze as if avoiding my own, her body stiffening and pulling away. My hold loosened, the emptiness without her touch settling while Tristan appeared.

“It’s time, Alek.”

I nodded, and he retreated, concealing himself in the forest. “If this is too much, you can take the rest of the day off. If you seek answers, you can go directly to him, but—”

“It’s fine,” she said, her words stale. “If the evidence points to him, there’s nothing I can do to disprove it.”

A shadowed semblance clouded her, her shoulders caving while the minor glimmer in her gaze dimmed. Though my tongue itched to reassure her, there was an extent to making such promises. Especially ones that held no weight.

Tristan led the way through the forest and toward the inner gate, Katerina parting from my grasp and vanishing to the other side of the outer driveway until she and Tristan became one with the swallowing woods.

I blurred through the entrance and paused before the library’s second floor, studying the air that embedded itself into the gloomy silence.

Christopher sat on his grand chair, his eyes entranced by the book before him that he had recently gathered. Raphael sat on the spiraling stairs that led to the third floor, his head meeting mine in height. Though his legs were firm, his fingers picked at each other.

My hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed, my attention falling on Tristan and Katerina as they entered.

All my allies settled in one room. Nerves chilled across my skin.

The plan for tomorrow —a plan I had long awaited— came to fruition.

“The plan will go as such:

Katerina and Tristan will retreat the notebook. During the Ball, Raphael will keep a close eye on Kaleb to ensure that he does no heinous acts. Christopher will also be monitoring Noah and the twins.

I will be focusing on the main entrance of the ballroom for Tristan’s and Katerina’s secure arrival. If one doesn’t arrive, it will represent the failed attempt at obtaining the notebook.”

We decided it was best to not inform Christopher and Raphael about the intruder’s capture. It would not only peril our chances but also raise questions I couldn’t answer. Christopher believed the intruder to be insignificant, nothing more outside of Kaleb’s scheme. If he was to discover an underlying reason, he’d discern Katerina’s connection.

The risk was too grand and of no avail.

The thought of tomorrow further heightened the angst that burrowed in my stomach. With our mother’s death anniversary, rumors yearly sprouted, especially during each Christmas Ball. Her murder had been ruled as an unclassified medical reason by the Ministry, but word of suicide spread to vilify transitioning and humiliate us.

“Is anyone worried about their role?” I asked as I cleared my throat. Everyone shook their heads, and the consoling stillness concluded our time.

“Then Katerina and I will leave to discuss some protocols for the night,” Tristan said. They bowed, Katerina stealing a glance my way before they vanished into the corridor.

“Raphael, excuse us for a moment,” Christopher ordered. “I must speak with Alek.”

Raphael met my gaze, and I nodded, the slight motion enough reassurance for him and myself. Once he bowed and exited, Christopher removed his glasses and arranged the ends to form the imitating key. He stepped through the spiraling stairs and unlocked the hidden door.

I followed him with dreadful steps as he stepped into his study. My body froze on the last few steps, and my throat tightened, the memories beginning to manifest, but I suppressed them with tight fists. I couldn’t allow the terrors of that night to continue to grip me. It needed to end.

Before I could freeze, I pushed myself through the opening.

The room had remained the same. Bookshelves invaded my sight, their statures nearly meeting the roof as I took them in. An alcove parted the sea of books; sunlight beamed through the window and onto the pathway where Christopher lurked.

It had been the place I’d huddled in five years ago, where I witnessed the culprit escape after taking our mother’s life— unbeknownst to me at the time.

I halted in the center of the room. It was as if all my limbs became motionless, and there was no sense of control left for me to uphold.

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