Don't Turn Off the Lights – Part 2: What the Study Kept

The study door opened without a key. Eli pressed one of the panels beside it, and the whole wall swung inward on a hinge so smooth it made no sound at all.

"Someone built a secret room behind a fake wall," Rowan breathed.

"Someone built several," said Eli. "My grandfather liked privacy and old debts."

The room behind was small and warm, lined with shelves of leather-bound ledgers and bundles of letters tied with faded ribbon. A single desk stood in the centre, with a lamp still switched on. It was the only thing in the house Rowan had seen that wasn't perfectly neat. There were papers scattered across it, and a half-finished cup of coffee gone cold.

"Someone's been working here tonight," said Eli.

Rowan picked up the top letter. The handwriting was familiar: careful and sloping, the same as the notes on her kitchen table.

"These are from your brother," she said.

"Or from someone pretending to be him." Eli's voice had gone flat. "He's been in Singapore for three weeks. He had nothing to do with the study."

Rowan read the letter aloud, the words slipping into her mouth like cold water. It described a property deal, a forged signature, a family lawyer named Harris who had been paid to keep quiet for ten years. It ended with a single line.

If Eli comes home, give him the key. He'll know what it opens.

She looked up. Eli was standing very still beside the desk, a small brass key in his hand. He had found it tucked inside the lamp base, and his face was unreadable.

"I didn't know," he said quietly. "I swear, Rowan. I didn't know my family had built this."

"I believe you," said Rowan.

"You shouldn't. I'm a stranger."

"You came back when you were called," she said. "That's not what a liar does."

He breathed out slowly and sat down on the edge of the desk. She went to stand in front of him, close enough to see the strain at his eyes.

"Eli," she said. "Tell me what you need."

"For you to stay," he said. "And to not turn off the lights."

She laughed, a little shakily, and then the lamp on the desk flickered, went dark, and came back on with a buzz.

Somewhere far below, a door slammed.

Eli was on his feet in an instant, his hand closing around hers. "Rowan. Stay here. Please."

"No," she said. "Not without you."

He looked at her, and then nodded, and they moved together through the hidden door, into the dark hall, where every light in the house had just gone out at once.

Rowan's heart was pounding. Eli's hand was steady in hers.

"Green?" he whispered.

"Green," said Rowan. "But I want the lights on."

Somewhere in the dark, a voice called her name, soft and familiar, from the top of the stairs.