Where am I?
"Antonia!"
Mum?
I looked around, but I was submerged in total darkness.
"Antonia!"
I tried to shout back, but I couldn't. Tears streamed down my face as I reached out blindly, trying to feel for anything—but it was no use. Her voice grew more distant, her calls fading.
"No, please don't leave me," I whispered as the darkness swallowed me whole.
---
I opened my eyes slowly, blinking at the familiar surroundings. Light filtered through the curtains in soft gray streaks, but it wasn't gentle—it felt heavy, like a warning.
Footsteps echoed just outside my door. I slammed my eyes shut.
The bedroom door swung open, and soft steps crossed the floor before a burst of sunlight hit my face as the curtains were yanked open. I groaned, shielding my eyes.
"Get up, Antonia. You know what day it is," a soft but firm voice said.
I heard her footsteps approach before my blanket was pulled off me.
"We don't want to keep everyone waiting—especially not your mother."
I sighed. "I'll be there."
I could sense her hesitation, then the sound of her footsteps retreating. After I heard the door click shut, I forced myself out of bed to get ready for the one-year anniversary of my mother's death.
---
One year ago, on this unfortunate day, I lost my best friend—the only person I could ever trust with any of my secrets. I thought maybe the pain in my chest would have dulled by now, but it hadn't. It was still there, sharp as ever.
After getting dressed, I went downstairs to find my father and brother already waiting.
My brother muttered something under his breath. I shot him a glare just as my father turned to me.
"What took you so long?" he snapped.
I opened my mouth to respond, but he raised his hand to silence me.
"We must get going. We're already two minutes late."
As we stepped outside, Allison—the woman who had woken me up earlier—ran up to me, breathless, and held out a rose.
"Here. Give this to your mother for me, will you?"
I nodded and got into the car.
---
The drive to the cemetery was quiet and quick. We arrived just as other family members and friends were pulling into the lot.
We exchanged brief greetings, and the service began.
I've never been one to cry in public, but something about hearing everyone speak about my mother—what she meant to them, how much she loved me—made the tears come. I couldn't stop them.
I quietly slipped away from the crowd and made my way toward a tall tree not far from the service. I closed my eyes, taking in the fresh air, trying to steady myself.
"I'm sorry about your loss."
I opened my eyes and froze. A tall figure stood in front of me, his eyes familiar.
"Rowan?"
I didn't bother wiping my tears. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Canada."
"I was. But my dad decided it was time to move back," he said simply.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to me.
"Here."
I hesitated before taking it, muttering a quiet, "Thanks."
"I'm surprised you're here, Rowan. After what happened before you left... I didn't expect to see your face again."
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "You really want to do this now? Can we at least show some respect to your mum today?"
He was right. Picking a fight wasn't the best idea—and I didn't want to upset my father again.
"Fine. Whatever you say."
"You two fighting again?"
I turned to see my brother approaching us.
"Mind your business, Alex."
He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax. Come on" he said turning serious again "it's time to say our final goodbyes."
After the service, we all went our separate ways.
---
When we got back to the mansion, Dad locked himself in his study. Alex disappeared almost immediately, and Allison was nowhere to be found.
The silence was too loud.
So I climbed up to the attic, hoping to find something—anything—to distract myself from my thoughts.
As I sorted through old boxes on the shelves, I stumbled across a journal wrapped in a silk scarf and tucked between photo albums.
Curious, I flipped to the last page and checked the date: February 25th, 2037. Just days before Mum died.
I carefully put the boxes back in place and took the journal to my room, locking the door behind me.
Once I was comfortable on the bed, I began reading. Page after page revealed pieces of her I hadn't known, quiet worries hidden beneath her smile.
And then I reached the final entry.
---
February 27th, 2037
I can't take it anymore. The feeling of being watched is stronger than ever.
Antonia, if you ever find this and something happens to me, please know that I've always loved you. No matter what. And I will always protect you.
Look for the red box. It holds the truth. And trust absolutely no one.
I love you.
---
I closed the book, trembling. Tears streamed down my face.
How did she know I would find this? Who was watching her? Was her death… really a coincidence?
A knock on my door made me jump.
"Antonia? Are you okay in there?" Allison's voice came gently from the hallway.
I quickly hid the journal, wiped my tears, and unlocked the door. Her eyes immediately filled with concern when she saw me.
"You poor thing," she said softly. "I should've known something was wrong when you didn't show up for lunch."
I raised an eyebrow. "Lunch?"
"It's almost 6:00 PM," she said, watching my expression shift.
I'd gotten so lost in Mum's journal that I hadn't even noticed the time slipping by.
"I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize. Do you want to talk about it?"
I shook my head. She sighed.
"Alright. Dinner's ready. We'll be waiting downstairs—I made your favorite."
She left, and I shut the door behind her.
For a moment, I debated telling Dad about the journal. But then I remembered her words.
Trust no one.
That included him.
She left it for me—for me to figure this out. Alone.