Page 48 of When You're Safe

Only then didhe make his way back to his own car in the shadowy courtyard, dejected andalone.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Finn felt achill course down his spine as he followed the ethereal figure of ElizabethDeGrey through the endless corridors of DeGrey Castle. The air was filled withthe smell of a burning fireplace, broken only by the echoing footsteps of twofigures: one in relentless pursuit and the other in desperate flight.

As he passedeach portrait that adorned the walls, they seemed to twist and warp, turninginto grotesque, mocking faces. Their expressions were contorted in rage,sorrow, or malicious glee, and their eyes tracked Finn’s every move, making himfeel like prey being hunted.

Elizabethoccasionally turned to glance at Finn, her eyes filled with a potent mix offear and beckoning. Her ghostly white dress fluttered behind her as she spedthrough the labyrinthine hallways. Each time she looked back, Finn’sdetermination to reach her grew, even as a suffocating dread closed in on him.

The portraitsbegan to stretch out from their frames, their gaunt, spectral fingers reachingout to him, trying to grasp him and pull him into their world. With eachpassing second, the hallway grew darker and narrower, as if the walls were nowa vise from which he could never escape.

Finn could hearwhispers, growing louder and more insistent, coming from the depths of theshadows. They were voices from his past, old regrets and lost opportunities.They taunted him, reminding him of every mistake he’d ever made.

“Finn,”Elizabeth’s voice echoed, sounding simultaneously distant and yet right besidehim.

The more hestrained to reach her, the further away she seemed. As he pushed past the ever-tighteninggrip of the horrifying figures, the ground beneath him felt less solid, morelike a treacherous quagmire pulling him under.

His body feltcold like the grave, and he felt an overwhelming sense of panic as therealization hit him: he was going to be consumed by the darkness and leftutterly alone.

Suddenly, anear-piercing scream reverberated through the corridor. It was Elizabeth, butshe was nowhere to be seen. The figures were closing in, their twisted smilesgrowing wider, eyes alight with malevolent glee.

Finn strainedagainst the grasping hands that seemed to sprout from the very walls themselves.Each bony finger tugged at his clothes, his hair, and his very soul. The morehe resisted, the more insistent their pulling became. The cruel, twisted faceslaughed, each echoing cackle driving him further into desperation.

Suddenly someof those faces contorted into those he knew, Rob, Amelia, Director Seward, hisfather, so many people he knew and loved, and yet they were trying to tear himapart piece by piece. For a moment, Finn thought he would be consumed by itall, falling into a deep pit of madness from which there would be no escape.

But ahead,there was a glimmer of hope. Elizabeth, in her stark white dress, stood outlike a beacon against the darkness of the corridor. Her cries became moredesperate, more poignant, pulling at Finn’s heartstrings. With a final push,using every ounce of his strength, he managed to free himself from the chokinggrasp of the portraits and lunged toward the room where Elizabeth haddisappeared.

He stumbledinto utter blackness, a room devoid of any discernible features. No windows, nodoors, no furniture—just an all-consuming void. The only thing that broke themonotony was Elizabeth, huddled in a corner, her pale dress making her looklike a ghostly apparition.

The atmospherein the room was icy cold, almost tangible. It felt as if the very walls werebreathing, watching, waiting. Finn took tentative steps toward her, her name amere whisper on his lips.

“Elizabeth?”

Reaching out,he gently touched her shoulder, expecting her to turn, to offer someexplanation. But when she did, it was not Elizabeth’s face that met his, butDemi’s. Her eyes, once filled with warmth and laughter, now burned withaccusation and anger. Her scream, full of pain and betrayal, pierced the verycore of Finn’s being.

“Why did youleave me?” she howled, her voice a distorted cacophony of pain and rage.

The weight ofthe accusation, the depth of emotion in those familiar eyes, was too much forFinn to bear. He tried to pull away, but her fingers, now cold and unyielding,clamped around his wrist, pulling him closer to her anguish-filled visage.

And then, witha jolt, the nightmarish world crumbled away. Finn shot upright in bed, thechilling scream still ringing in his ears. His breathing was ragged, sweatdrenching his sheets. The room around him, bathed in the faint light of dawn,seemed unreal after the intensity of the dream.

He put atrembling hand to his face, trying to push away the raw emotions the nightmarehad unearthed. The guilt, the unresolved feelings for Demi, the shadows of thepast—they all threatened to engulf him. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Finntried to find his bearings, reminding himself that he was in the real world.But the sting of the dream remained, reminding him that some ghosts from thepast refused to be laid to rest.

WhyElizabeth? he thought in the darkness of the cottage bedroom in GreatAmwell.

He wasn’tcertain why his dreams had merged the two figures together, the two identities,other than a passing resemblance.

Then a thoughtbegan to link the two in a bright fury of speculation. But speculation waswhere the solving of mysteries began.

He got out ofbed and walked through the darkened rooms of the cottage until he found himselfin the living room. Out there beyond the blooming roses in the garden, the skywas starting to turn blue in the distance. The sun was coming.

Finn sat downat the coffee table and opened up his laptop. He searched for what he waslooking for. Suddenly, there it was, shining through the blue hue of thescreen. An answer. A theory. A line of breadcrumbs that could be followed.

And Finnsuddenly had an idea who the killer might be.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

The killerwalked, the ground powdering with each footstep. The country road was deserted,a thin mist veiling the fields on either side. It felt like a world suspendedin time, with the early morning silence punctuated only by the distant chirp ofwaking birds. As the sun slowly emerged from the horizon, painting the world inhues of gold and crimson, the figure trudged on, his pace determined, yetweighed down by his thoughts.

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