The moment the recorder died, a silence heavier than before settled in the room, wrapping around Rose and Daniel like a weighted blanket. The static still seemed to echo in their heads.
"I'll check the bag," Daniel said quickly, already getting to his feet.
He rummaged through the bag he'd found the recorder in, tossing aside old documents, dusty trinkets, and tangled cords. Nothing useful. No charger. No spare batteries. Just more mystery. He considered asking Adeline—but something told him she wouldn't have let them hear the message in the first place. Not willingly.
"I'll find a battery or charger. Stay here," Daniel said with urgency, grabbing the recorder and heading out.
Rose nodded, but her chest tightened. Her curiosity about their mother—Katherine—had morphed into a silent desperation. She needed to know what Adeline had tried to tell her. Even if it wasn't meant for her. Especially because it wasn't meant for her.
With Daniel gone, Rose took a moment to ground herself. She went to check on Adeline, who was resting in her chair by the window, blanketed in the late afternoon sun. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of the door.
"You need anything?" Rose asked gently.
Adeline gave a tired smile. "Tea and my book, if you don't mind."
Rose returned with a warm cup of tea, a small plate of cookies, and Adeline's favorite worn-out book. The old woman accepted them with grace, thanking Rose softly. As soon as she seemed comfortable, Rose quietly left the room.
Back in her room, Rose let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She plopped down on her bed and messaged Stella. Their chat bounced from random gossip to memories of the club and jokes about the Carter family's ridiculous luxury.
A knock interrupted her mid-text.
"Come in," Rose called.
Daniel entered, looking slightly winded but holding the recorder in one hand and a small plastic bag in the other.
"You found it?" she asked, sitting up straighter.
"Not easy," he replied, dropping onto the bed beside her. "Took three shops, and one guy tried to convince me to buy a Walkman instead."
Rose snorted. "You didn't, right?"
"Tempted. But no," he grinned, then grew serious. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
They sat up properly, side by side, heads leaning in. Daniel connected the charger and powered on the recorder. It flickered to life and rewound automatically. He hit play.
A soft click.
Then the voice returned—Adeline's voice, but younger, tinged with something raw.
> "It's a crazy world," the woman's voice echoed softly.
> "If you're hearing this, then you've seen signs. You've felt it. The silence that feels too quiet, the eyes you don't see but know are there. I tried to keep you away from it, but blood has a way of pulling us all back."
Rose's hands clenched the edge of the bedspread.
> "Your father didn't just choose you, Katherine, for the company's sake. There are deeper reasons. Older roots. Dangerous ties. You're part of something bigger than you think—something hidden beneath the luxury and money. This world…"
> "…this world is run by ghosts in tailored suits. By shadows with power. Your family—our family—has always had one foot in it."
Daniel and Rose shared a look—haunted, searching.
> "Father is not the man you thought. His hands are stained with blood. It's a world that kills each other without letting the innocent know. Those who know… they die eventually, one way or the other. Because once you know, you will be involved. Those who don't… well, they still die. Only, it's a mystery to them and everyone else. Isn't that crazy?"
Adeline's voice now dripped with irony, like she was laughing at the absurdity of it all.
> "These people… they deal in drugs, trafficking, money laundering, assassination. You name it. That's the world we were born into."
> "When Father married you off to the Moreau family, it wasn't out of love or tradition. The Elfo company was on the verge of bankruptcy. He needed help. And the old man from the Moreau household made his price clear—he wanted a wife from our family. We were young, beautiful, and, well… marketable."
Rose felt a chill slide down her spine. The kind that made her want to pause the recording—but couldn't.
> "He chose you because you were obedient, quiet, and wouldn't question him. If it had been me, I would've raised hell. That's why he sent me abroad—on some ridiculous mission—just to get me out of the way. And by the time I returned, my fate had been sealed too. A wedding arranged. A suitor handpicked by Father."
There was a pause. A long one.
And then, in a softer, cracked voice, Adeline whispered:
> "I'm sorry, Katherine. I should've done more."
The recorder clicked softly, signaling the end of that portion. But neither Rose nor Daniel moved. The air between them was still, humming with the weight of what they had just heard.
Their mother had been sold. Their aunt silenced. Their grandfather—an Elfo—wasn't just a businessman. He was a puppeteer pulling strings soaked in blood.
Rose looked down at her hands, now trembling.
"She never said anything," she murmured. "None of them did…"
Daniel sat back, running a hand through his hair. "Because they were all part of it, one way or another."
Outside the window, dusk settled over the estate like a cloak.
The ghosts in tailored suits were real.
And they were next in line to uncover what those shadows had left behind.