The Locked Door

Cindy's POV 

I woke up the next morning with my cheeks burning. The hallway thing from last night kept replaying in my head. Blake grabbing my wrist, the way we looked at each other. I felt stupid. I decided right then I would avoid him completely. No talking. No eye contact. Nothing.

Breakfast was awkward as hell. I sat across from Mom and Victor, poking at my eggs. Blake was already there, staring at his phone like we did not exist.

"Good morning, Cindy," Mom said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Morning," I mumbled.

Victor folded his newspaper. "Storm kept you up? It was loud."

"Yeah. I'm fine." I kept my eyes on my plate.

Blake said nothing. He finished his coffee, grabbed his jacket, and stood up. "Got an early meeting. I'll be late." He walked out without looking at anyone. The door clicked shut behind him.

Mom leaned toward me. "Is something going on between you two? You both seem off."

"It's nothing, Mom. Really." I stood up fast. "I'm going to explore the house a bit."

I needed air. This mansion was too big and too quiet.

I wandered down a hallway I had never checked before. Most doors were open. I peeked inside a library full of books and a pretty sitting room. Then I reached the end of the corridor. One heavy wooden door stood out. Dark and old.

I tried the handle. Locked tight.

I tried again. Still nothing.

Footsteps came up behind me. I jumped.

Mrs. Carter stood there, arms crossed. "Miss Cindy, no one goes in there. Mr. Blake forbids it."

"Why?" I asked. "What's inside?"

She hesitated. "Some memories are better left untouched." Her voice dropped. "Please stay away from this wing."

She turned and left before I could ask more. I stood there staring at the door. Memories? What kind of memories?

I tried to forget about it. I went out to the garden and sat by the fountain with a book. But my mind kept going back. Why lock one random room? What was Blake hiding?

Later that afternoon I found myself back in the same corridor. I was not even trying to go there, but my feet took me anyway. I stood in front of the door again.

"Who told you to come here?"

I spun around. Blake was home early. His face looked cold.

"I was just exploring," I said quickly. "I did not know this part was off limits."

Blake stepped closer. He did not yell. His voice stayed low and calm. "Don't ever come back to this part of the house."

The quiet way he said it scared me more than shouting would have. "I was only walking around. Why is this door locked anyway?"

"It does not matter," he said. "Stay away. I mean it, Cindy."

He turned and walked off. I stayed there a minute, heart pounding. Something was seriously wrong with that room.

Dinner was even worse than breakfast. Nobody talked much. Victor tried asking Blake about work, but he gave short answers. Mom kept glancing at me with worried eyes. I wanted to say something but what could I say? I found a locked door?

After dinner I went straight to my room. I tried reading. I tried scrolling on my phone. Nothing worked. That door would not leave my head. Mrs. Carter's words kept echoing. Some memories are better left untouched.

I turned off the lights but could not sleep. Every little noise made me tense. Around midnight I heard it. A door creaking open somewhere down the hall. Soft footsteps.

I slipped out of bed and cracked my bedroom door.

Blake was walking toward the forbidden wing. He had an old key in his hand. He stopped at the door, looked around once, then unlocked it. He stepped inside and closed it behind him.

I stood there frozen. What was he doing in there in the middle of the night?

I went back to bed but sleep did not come easy. My mind would not stop. That room. Blake's face. The key. Something big was hidden here, and I was not sure I could ignore it.

The next morning I felt tired. I went down for breakfast anyway.

Mom was pouring coffee. "You look like you did not sleep much."

"Weird dreams," I lied.

Victor nodded. "Blake left really early again."

Good, I thought. Less chance of running into him.

After breakfast I found Mrs. Carter in the kitchen. "Can I ask you something?" I said when we were alone.

"What is it?"

"About that locked room. Why does Blake keep it closed? Does it have to do with his mom?"

She looked sad for a second. "I have worked here a long time. Some things are private. Mr. Blake has his reasons. Respect them."

"But I live here now," I said. "If there's something I should know..."

"Stay out of that wing," she said firmly but kindly. "It will only bring trouble. Focus on your mother and Mr. Victor. They are happy. Let the past stay buried."

She went back to work. I knew I would not get more from her.

The day dragged. I helped Mom pick curtains and we laughed a little. It felt nice. But every time I passed that hallway I felt the pull.

Late afternoon I ended up back there again. I stood in front of the door, staring.

"What are you doing?" Blake's voice made me jump.

"I was just passing by," I said, voice shaky.

"I told you to stay away." He stepped closer. "There are things in this house better left alone. For your sake. For everyone's."

"Then tell me what they are," I said. "If it's so important, why not explain?"

He shook his head. "You would not understand." He turned to leave but stopped. "Go to your room, Cindy. Please."

The please surprised me. I nodded and went upstairs.

That night I lay awake again. Around one in the morning I heard the creak. The footsteps. I peeked out. Blake was heading to the room with the key. Twenty minutes later he came out looking tired and heavy.

I closed my door and sat on my bed. My hands would not stop shaking.

Whatever was behind that door was eating Blake alive. And now it was starting to bother me too. I had to find out the truth. No matter what.