CHAPTER ELEVEN: STOP DIGGING FOR MORE ANSWERS LEAH

Leah woke to the faint sound of footsteps outside her door. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft light filtering in through the curtains. She was still in Ethan's house, a place that now felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The tension from the night before lingered in the air, making her chest feel tight.

She sat up, her mind drifting back to the strange look Ethan had given her before he left the room. It wasn't just coldness-it was like he knew something she didn't. Something important. But, as always, he'd left her with more questions than answers.

As she dressed, a knock at the door startled her. Leah froze for a moment, expecting Ethan, but when she opened it, one of the staff stood there, holding an envelope. "This came for you, miss."

Leah frowned, taking the envelope. "From who?"

"I don't know, miss. It was left at the door early this morning."

The door closed behind her as she stood, staring at the envelope. No name. No sender. Her heart raced as she tore it open. Inside was a simple piece of paper with one chilling line scrawled across it:

"You don't know who you really are."

Her stomach dropped.

---

Leah's day spiraled after receiving the mysterious note. She spent the morning in a haze, each interaction with Ethan strained. He noticed, of course, but said nothing, his eyes always watching, always calculating.

During lunch, she gathered the courage to confront him, her voice sharp. "Who else knows I'm here, Ethan?"

He paused mid-bite, his gaze lifting to hers, unreadable. "What makes you ask?"

She slid the note across the table, watching his reaction carefully. Ethan didn't flinch, but there was a slight narrowing of his eyes before he spoke. "Where did you get this?"

"It was left at the door this morning," she answered, crossing her arms. "Do you know who sent it?"

He studied her for a moment before answering. "No."

Leah's frustration bubbled over. "You're lying, Ethan. You know something, and I'm tired of being kept in the dark."

Ethan stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he moved toward her, his towering presence making the room feel smaller. "And what do you think you'll gain by knowing everything right now, Leah? It's not time yet."

Her heart thudded in her chest as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You want the truth? Learn to survive first."

The tension between them was palpable, but Ethan pulled back, leaving Leah's mind spinning with more questions than answers. Who sent the note? And what did they mean by not knowing who she really was?

---

Leah could hardly eat after that encounter. Ethan's words lingered in her mind, like a threat and a promise wrapped together in one infuriating package. Learn to survive first. Survive what? Him? This strange life he'd forced her into?

Pushing her plate away, Leah stood from the table, her mind buzzing with uncertainty. If Ethan knew something-something about her past-then there had to be a way to find out. The only question was, how?

As she made her way through the sprawling corridors of the estate, she became acutely aware of the watchful eyes on her. The staff, silent and obedient, never met her gaze directly. It was as if they, too, were keeping secrets.

She headed toward the library, seeking the only place in the house that gave her a semblance of peace. The room was dimly lit, a grand space lined with towering shelves of books she'd never even heard of. But today, even the quiet of the library couldn't calm her nerves. The note burned in her pocket like a constant reminder of the unknown.

Leah paced for a moment before spotting a familiar figure in the corner of the room. A woman-older, with gray streaks in her dark hair-stood by one of the shelves, dusting methodically. Leah recognized her as one of the housemaids. She had never spoken to her before, but something about her calm, observant demeanor struck Leah as different from the others.

Without really thinking, Leah approached her. "Excuse me," she said softly.

The woman looked up, her sharp eyes meeting Leah's. "Yes, miss?"

Leah hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But her desperation outweighed her caution. "Do you know who sent this?" She pulled out the note, showing the maid.

The woman's eyes flickered briefly to the note, then back to Leah's face. There was no surprise in her gaze, only a careful, guarded expression. "I'm afraid I don't, miss."

Leah frowned, sensing the half-truth in her words. "You're lying."

The maid's lips twitched slightly, though not quite into a smile. "I wouldn't dare lie to you, miss. But... I may not be able to say all that I know."

Leah's pulse quickened. "Why not?"

The maid glanced around, as if checking to make sure no one else was nearby. Then she stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "This house... there are rules. Things that are better left unsaid. Especially when it comes to Mr. Blackwood."

Leah's stomach churned. "What do you mean?"

The maid paused, her expression conflicted, as if weighing the risk of saying too much. "All I'll say, miss, is that you're not the first to ask questions about your past."

Leah blinked, stunned. "What? Who else has?"

But the maid straightened, her face now an impassive mask. "I've said too much. Be careful, miss. Some doors, once opened, cannot be closed."

Before Leah could press her further, the maid turned and hurried out of the room, leaving Leah standing there, her mind reeling with new questions. Not the first to ask questions about her past? What could that possibly mean?

Leah's hands trembled as she sank into one of the library chairs, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She had to find out what was going on. But how? She couldn't trust Ethan to tell her the truth, and now it seemed even the staff were bound by some unspoken rule of secrecy.

For the rest of the afternoon, Leah remained in the library, pouring over books in a desperate attempt to distract herself. But her mind kept wandering back to the note, the maid's cryptic words, and the gnawing feeling that she was on the verge of discovering something dangerous.

---

Later that evening, Ethan returned, his presence filling the room as soon as he walked through the door. He found Leah sitting in front of the fireplace, her eyes distant as she stared into the flickering flames. She didn't look at him as he entered, but she felt the weight of his gaze on her.

"I can see something's on your mind," he said, his voice low.

Leah clenched her jaw, still angry from their earlier conversation. She turned to face him, her eyes hard. "You know exactly what's on my mind, Ethan. And I want answers."

Ethan's expression remained unreadable, but there was a tension in his posture. He approached her slowly, like a predator sizing up its prey. "I've already told you, Leah. There are things you're not ready to know."

Leah stood, her fists balled at her sides. "Stop treating me like a child! If there's something about my past-about me-I have a right to know."

His eyes flared in anger as his head snapped to her's. "Stop asking more questions Leah, and stop digging for answers.

I am doing everything to protect you, you are putting yourself in more danger's."

Ethan's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. He stepped closer, his towering presence once again overwhelming the space between them. "You think you're ready for the truth?" His voice was a dangerous whisper. "Do you think you'll like what you find?"

Leah held her ground, even though her heart was racing. "I don't care if I like it. I need to know."

For a long moment, Ethan stared at her, his intense gaze piercing through her resolve. Then, without warning, he reached out, grabbing her by the wrist. Leah gasped as he pulled her close, his breath hot against her ear.

"There are things, Leah," he murmured, his voice almost soft now, "things that are better left buried."

Leah's pulse thundered in her ears. "You can't protect me from the truth forever."

Ethan's grip on her wrist tightened just slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "No, I can't. But I can make sure you're ready when it comes."

With that, he released her, stepping back as if the moment had never happened. Leah's wrist throbbed where his fingers had dug into her skin, but the ache in her chest was far worse. She watched as he turned and left the room, leaving her once again with more questions than answers.

---

As night fell, Leah stood by the window, staring out into the darkness. Her mind raced, filled with fragments of conversations, cryptic notes, and unspoken secrets. The truth was out there, somewhere, lurking just beyond her reach. And no matter what Ethan said, she would find it.

But as she stood there, a flicker of doubt crept into her mind. What if Ethan was right? What if the truth was more dangerous than she could imagine?

Leah closed her eyes, her fingers brushing over the note still tucked in her pocket. She didn't know who she really was. But soon, she would find out.

No matter the cost.