Page 53 of Blurred Lines

"Didn't think it through?"

Caeleb's silence confirms my suspicions. I sigh. "Okay, we'll get to the bottom of this, but I have news too. Can you come over?"

An hour later, the knock comes. Caeleb steps in, the night clinging to his shoulders like dew. Without words, I pour two glasses of whiskey.

He takes a seat, accepting the glass. His eyes, tired with worry, rest on mine.

"What's going on, Finn?"

I tap my glass lightly. "I went back to the riddle," I begin, watching his expression sharpen. "Dug deeper into the mansion's floor planning, the structure, everything I could think of, but all the while, the meat of it was in an old tape."

Caeleb leans in, interest piqued despite the exhaustion lining his face.

"A clue," I continue, "tied directly to Harvey's letter to Emily. There's a secret room in the mansion."

For a moment, silence wraps around us, thick and palpable.

"A secret room?" Disbelief and curiosity mingle in his voice. "We've known that mansion since we were kids, long before Emily was born. How could there be a secret room?"

I set my glass down with a clink. "Remember how Harvey's parents used to fight all the time?"

Caeleb nods quietly. "I remember. I wonder if Emily would?—"

"Perish the thought," I interrupt him sharply. "We shouldn't tell Emily about Harvey's past when she's already so vulnerable. Give it some time. Now, coming back to the topic—Harvey once mentioned he'd find a secret room to hide in. Maybe this is it. We have to find out where it is."

"Well, well," Caeleb breathes. "I guess I'm not getting any sleep tonight."

"This is what we need to tell Emily on a priority basis," I say crisply. "I can call her tomorrow morning. Maybe we could go over and figure this out together."

"I don't think she'll be too eager to see me after what just went down," Caeleb replies, his tone edged with discomfort. "She was pretty quick to bolt."

Caeleb's had a tough past, I think to myself. He's baring his heart to this girl, and obviously, while she's in it, she's got her own issues. I'm worried about both of them. I shift on my feet. "Listen, don't let her immediate response get to you. Her fight-or-flight instincts were on alert, what do you expect when someone's taking your picture without your consent?"

"She never lets me explain," Caeleb replies brusquely. "I really like the girl, but she's a runner."

"Maybe that's because she's never known any better," I point out to him. I pat his arm gently. "The guest bedroom is empty."

Caeleb doesn't need further invitation. He nods and slinks off toward the northern part of my home. "I'll see you in the morning. Coffee's on me."

I smile as I resume my position on the couch. I've got a lot of research left to do. I have no idea when exhaustion gets the better of me, but eventually, I pass out on the couch itself.

The first hint of consciousness comes not from the light creeping through the curtains, nor the sureshot backache that will follow, but from a scent. Rich, bold, the unmistakable aroma of strong coffee fills the room like a promise made tangible. My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dim light, and I sit up, drawn by the lure of that promise.

I shuffle into the kitchen, finding Caeleb already there. He's standing by the counter, a coffee pot in hand, pouring the dark, steaming liquid into two mugs.

"Morning," I murmur, voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning," he replies, a smile in his voice. He hands me a mug, the ceramic warm against my palms, the steam curling up like whispers. I bring it to my lips. The drink bursts with flavor, deep and complex, with hints of chocolate and a touch of bitterness that accentuates its richness.

"Damn, Caeleb," I say, after a moment, savoring another sip. "This is incredible. I can't believe you made this with whatever I have in this kitchen."

He grins, leaning against the counter with his own mug.

"You know," I say, as the warmth from the coffee seeps into my bones, "I think this might just be the best drink to exist."

Caeleb raises his mug in a mock salute. "To the best drink to exist, then."

We finish our mugs, the last drops as satisfying as the first, and I know that no matter what the day brings, it's started in the best possible way.

---