Page 3 of The Last Morgan
When they finally reached the car, Carter opened the door and waited patiently. Lucy slid in wordlessly. The journey stretched on for hours, the city slowly dissolving into fields and forests, until even the roads felt like they belonged to another world. Lucy kept her gaze fixed outside, watching the scenery blur past — but inside, she remained fragmented.
Eventually, Carter turned down a narrow lane surrounded by dense woodland. The air grew thicker, quieter, almost like it was holding its breath.
Then, the house appeared.
Except it wasn’t a house — not in the usual sense. It looked more like an old estate or a forgotten manor, something between a sanctuary and a relic. Its walls were steeped in time, its windows like watching eyes.
Carter pulled up and turned to her, his expression shifting to something more serious.
“Remember what I said,” he told her gently. “Learn everything you can while you're here. I don’t think this is over, and you’ll need to be ready for what’s coming.”
Lucy didn’t answer, but she nodded. A part of her understood that this place would change everything.
As Carter stepped out and moved around to open her door, he noticed something from the corner of his eye,
He smiled — not his usual guarded smile, but something warm and familiar.
“Hello, Mum,” he said, looking into the overgrown garden.
Lucy followed his gaze, confused. There was no one there. Just tall grass and shadows.
He nudged her gently. “Look closer.”
She squinted, scanning the yard. Slowly, a figure began to form — crouched low and perfectly still. As Lucy stared, the shape shifted and rose, revealing a woman with sharp eyes and quiet grace.
“Hello, son,” the woman said with a smirk, brushing leaves from her sleeves. “Still impossible to surprise, even with those fancy sensors you brought me.”
She stepped forward and embraced him, her presence both commanding and comforting.
Then her attention shifted to Lucy.
“And who do we have here?”
Lucy froze, instinctively tightening her grip on Carter’s hand.
“This is Lucy,” he said gently as he looked sown at her “ Your safe here, I promise.”
Lucy wasn’t sure why, but she believed him.
As they entered the house, another voice called from behind.
“Carter!”
A small boy came sprinting toward them, arms flailing with excitement.
“Hello, Barnaby,” Carter said warmly. “You’ve grown.”
Barnaby couldn’t have been more than five, tall for his age and brimming with energy. He bounced on the balls of his feet as Carter introduced him.
“Barnaby, this is Lucy. Can you show her to my old room?”
The boy nodded and eagerly took Lucy’s hand, pulling her through the halls.
He brought her to a large but simple room, and after placing her bag down, she smiled softly and thanked him. Barnaby grinned, then darted off down the corridor.
But as soon as he left, the unease returned. The silence felt heavy again.
Not wanting to be alone, Lucy slipped back into the hall and followed the faint sound of voices — Carter’s voice, low and steady.
