A Love Across Time

The clock struck midnight, its chime echoing faintly through the empty halls of Harrington Manor. Sophia leaned over the table, her eyes scanning the faded ink on James's letters. Despite the growing fatigue in her bones, she couldn't tear herself away.

"This one's dated a week before the last letter," she said, holding the page up to the light. "Listen to this:

> Eleanor,

I've written countless letters and poured my heart into every word. Yet, I am met with silence. If you cannot love me, I will accept it, but please, I beg you, tell me so. I've heard rumors of your engagement to another. Is it true? Have I lost you to him?

Sophia set the letter down with trembling hands. "He thought she was marrying someone else."

Liam, who had been pacing the room, stopped and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "If Eleanor's family was intercepting the letters, they probably spread those rumors on purpose. It's a classic tactic—make him think she's moved on so he'll give up."

Sophia nodded, the pieces clicking together in her mind. "But why? Was it just about social class, or was there something more?"

Before Liam could answer, a faint sound interrupted them—a soft creak, like footsteps on old floorboards. They both froze, their eyes darting toward the door.

"Did you hear that?" Sophia whispered, her voice barely audible.

Liam straightened, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah. Stay here."

"Wait, you're not going out there alone!" Sophia protested, rising from her chair.

But Liam was already moving toward the door. He grabbed a heavy flashlight from the table and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The air was colder here, and the shadows seemed to shift with every flicker of the lanterns.

"Hello?" he called out, his voice firm.

No answer.

Sophia followed close behind, her footsteps soft but determined. "Maybe it's just the wind," she suggested, though the tightness in her chest betrayed her own doubt.

They walked down the hallway, their footsteps echoing eerily. The manor's grand staircase loomed ahead, its polished banister gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

Just as they reached the landing, a cold gust of air swept past them, carrying with it the faintest whisper: Find me…

Sophia gasped, clutching Liam's arm. "Did you hear that?"

Liam's jaw tightened. "Yeah. And it came from upstairs."

Without hesitation, they climbed the staircase, their nerves taut with anticipation. The second floor was darker, the air heavier. They passed a series of closed doors until they reached the one at the end of the hallway—a door that was slightly ajar.

Liam pushed it open, revealing a small study filled with dust-covered furniture and shelves of old books. In the center of the room stood a writing desk, its surface cluttered with papers and a tarnished silver inkpot.

"This must have been Eleanor's study," Sophia murmured, running her fingers over the desk's surface.

A single letter lay in the center of the desk, its edges yellowed with age. Unlike the others, this one wasn't addressed or sealed. Sophia picked it up carefully and began to read:

> To whomever finds this—

I am Eleanor Harrington, and I fear my time grows short. My love for James has brought nothing but pain, and I am now faced with an impossible choice. If fate is kind, may this letter one day find its way to the truth.

The words faded into smudges, leaving the rest of the letter illegible.

Sophia turned to Liam, her voice trembling. "She wrote this knowing something terrible was about to happen."

Liam nodded grimly. "And we're going to find out what."

• Get access to advanced chapter only on my Patreon.

patreon(.)com/Bersertales