Chapter 1
Rain clung to the windows of the car like it was trying to warn Aria Hale not to enter Rosewood. The town appeared slowly through the fog — quiet, old, and unsettlingly still. Nothing about it felt welcoming.
Aria sat in the passenger seat, hugging her backpack to her chest. Her aunt kept glancing at her, trying to smile, trying to pretend this move was a good thing.
“You’ll like it here,” her aunt said softly. “Rosewood is… peaceful.”
Aria didn’t answer. Peaceful wasn’t the word she’d use. More like haunted.
They passed a row of houses, each one older than the last. People stood on porches, staring at the car as it drove by. Not curious. Not friendly.
More like… recognizing her.
Aria’s stomach tightened.
Finally, the car stopped in front of a small cottage. It was cute, with ivy crawling up the sides and a little garden out front.
But across the street stood something that didn’t belong in this world.
Rosewood Manor.
A massive, decaying mansion with black windows and iron gates twisted like claws. The air around it felt colder. Heavier. Wrong.
Aria stepped out of the car, rain soaking her hair. She couldn’t look away from the manor.
It felt like it was looking back.
Her aunt followed her gaze. “Don’t go near that place,” she said quickly. “It’s dangerous.”
Aria swallowed. “Why?”
Her aunt hesitated. “Because bad things happen there.”
That night, Aria couldn’t sleep. The rain tapped against her window, and every shadow in her room felt alive.
At 2:13 a.m., she woke up gasping.
She had dreamed of a boy standing in the manor’s doorway — tall, sharp‑jawed, with cold grey eyes that glowed faintly in the dark.
He whispered her name like he’d known it forever.
“Aria…”
She didn’t sleep again.
