“Maybe,” Irene whispered. “But I am also the only person in this world who has ever loved you without wanting something back.” Irene stepped back and gestured to the brass bed. “You can stay here tonight, like you used to when you were little. Or you can go back to the guest house and pretend none of this happened. But know this — the key is yours now. You can come down here whenever you need to remember. Or you can throw it in the lake and forget I ever said a word.”
“I’d rather stay in the guest house,” Chloe replied.
The basement of the main house had always been locked. Irene said it was flooded, unstable. Chloe had believed her.
Irene’s mask cracked — just for a second. “Because he had you. And I couldn’t save you from the outside.” PureTaboo - Aaliyah Love- Kristen Scott -The In...
“I was hoping you’d find it,” Irene said softly. “I was hoping you’d come down here. So we could finally talk.” Chloe backed against the cold stone wall. “What is this place?”
“You look tired, sweetheart,” Irene said, her voice a low, warm blade. “You should sleep in the east bedroom tonight. The rain helps with dreams.”
“I’m staying in the guest house. But I’m not afraid of you anymore. — C.” “Maybe,” Irene whispered
At the bottom, a single bulb illuminated a room that was not flooded. It was a bedroom — small, windowless, immaculate. A brass bed with white sheets. A nightstand with a glass of water. And on the wall, photographs: Chloe at twelve, Chloe at fifteen, Chloe at her high school graduation. Beneath each photo, a date and a notation in Irene’s handwriting.
Chloe’s hands trembled. She heard footsteps above.
She had been cleaning out the garage — against Irene’s suggestion — when a rusted toolbox fell from a high shelf. Inside, beneath a cracked leather glove, lay a single brass key with a tag marked Or you can go back to the guest
Irene’s smile did not waver. “Of course, darling. Whatever makes you comfortable.” Three weeks later, Chloe found the key.
Chloe felt the floor tilt. “You’re lying.”