Chapter 3

My mind was tangled in a chaotic knot. The jagged words in the binding and the scene from my dream flashed back and forth, driving me to desperately recall Ethan's exact expression from that moment.

The bedroom doorknob gave a quiet, mechanical click, and the scattered pieces in my head suddenly locked into place.

I remembered.

It was a flash of bone-chilling coldness—a gaze that looked upon an inanimate corpse.

Yet the moment his eyes caught mine, they had softened into a gentle curve, smiling with tender indulgence.

"Zoe."

The voice from my memory merged seamlessly with the voice entering the room.

Ethan shut the door and walked closer, the scent of sandalwood mingling with his signature trace of menthol tobacco.

Normally, I would have thrown myself straight into his arms to inhale his scent.

Right now, however, I remained frozen in my sleeping posture, my thoughts racing at breakneck speed.

What had he been doing in my father's home office in the dead of night?

And why was he whispering my name while I was fast asleep?

I waited quietly for his next move.

The mattress beside me sank down.

Propping himself up on one arm, Ethan leaned over me, using his free hand to gently sweep a stray lock of hair from my cheek.

Soft, warm lips brushed against my forehead, lingering for only a fraction of a second.

In a tone both devout and dangerously intoxicating, he murmured into my ear: "Zoe loves Ethan very much."

I forced my heart to maintain a steady rhythm.

Was all of this bizarre midnight behavior just his twisted way of confirming my feelings for him?

I never imagined that my effortlessly composed, all-powerful older brother was actually this deeply insecure.

Like a possessive yandere who couldn't survive without me.

If my stepmother's warning to "run now" was merely referring to his obsessive side, then what did I have to fear?

A flutter of secret delight washed over me, tempting me to suddenly snap my eyes open and catch him off guard.

Yet his voice continued, low and hypnotic: "Zoe will do anything for Ethan."

It was true, yes, but hearing it coaxed out of Ethan's mouth carried a sinister, insidious edge.

The ticking of the wall clock grew deafeningly sharp, every passing second underscored by his relentlessly looped whispers.

It sounded entirely like hypnosis.

A sudden wave of dread snaked up from the soles of my feet along my spine, making the fine hairs on my body stand on end.

Just as my heart threatened to hammer uncontrollably, I rolled over, curling into a tight ball.

Letting out a faint, sleepy mumble, I slurred, "Ethan..."

Ethan froze for an imperceptible fraction of a second. Then, his fingers gently trailed down the length of my hair.

Stroking it rhythmically, he continued to whisper those exact two sentences into my ear over and over again.

When I opened my eyes again, bright daylight flooded the room.

Against all odds, amidst that suffocating tension, I had actually managed to fall asleep until now.

Ethan was propping his head on one hand, a faint smile playing on his lips as he gazed down at me.

"Morning, little Zoe."

As was his routine, Ethan planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Have you been too worn out lately? You slept all the way until nine."

He ruffled my hair affectionately.

He looked completely different from the brooding, obsessive specter from last night.

Suppressing the sickening unease in my chest, I fought back a violent shiver and scrambled out of bed in a flurry of panic. "Oh no! I have piano class today!"

"Why didn't you wake me up?!"

Anyone subjected to a whole night of eerie, hypnotic chanting would end up on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Let alone when it came from the otherwise gentle, immaculate Ethan.

Ethan let out a low chuckle, getting to his feet and heading toward the door. As he pulled it open, he flashed me a playful wink.

"Don't worry. Mr. Miller is away on a business trip. I called your instructor on the sly and let them know you'd be a little late."

"Get freshened up and come down for breakfast. I made your favorite shrimp dumplings."

The door latched shut quietly. It seemed my act last night had been convincing enough.

Grabbing a change of clothes, I headed toward the bathroom. My gaze casually swept past the base of the television, where I knew a pinhole camera sat disguised as an idle standby light.

I used to suspect my stepmother had secretly planted it there to spy on me.

Now, I wasn't so sure anymore.