Like everything had finally found its place.
That evening, we returned to Nathan’s house.
Our house now.
It was my first time there.
I moved through each room slowly, touching things gently, as if that might help the moment feel more real. Taking in details I had never seen before.
This is where everything begins again, I thought.
“I’m going to freshen up,” I told him.
He smiled softly. “Take your time, darling.”
But when I returned to the bedroom… something was wrong.
Nathan stood in the center of the room, still in his suit.
His posture was rigid. His expression—distant. The warmth from earlier had vanished.
Before I could understand why, I felt it—something had shifted.
“Nathan,” I said gently, “are you alright?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he walked past me to the nightstand.
He opened the top drawer and took out a small key, holding it for a moment as if it carried far more weight than it should.
My breath caught.
He unlocked the bottom drawer, opened it… then turned to face me.
“Before we go any further, you need to know the whole truth, Matilda. I’m ready to confess what I’ve done.”
Something about that felt wrong.
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