However, the figure had vanished, and the place fell silent again.
“Damn it! Was it a ghost?” Yana screamed.
“Shh… no! Maybe Noreen had created an illusion again,” I softly comforted Yana. Then, I squatted to pick up a small stone and threw it into the bedroom.
The stone didn’t disappear nor did the bedroom floor collapsed.
Once sure everything was fine, I stepped inside.
Sylvia’s POV
Although no one was in the bedroom, I knew someone must be lurking in the dark, most likely, Noreen herself.
I looked around and found no other exit in the bedroom. ‘Then where did the figure disappear to?’
“Sylvia! Look at the mirror on your right. The scene on it doesn’t seem to belong to this room,” Yana exclaimed.
I looked up and saw a picture of barren land in the mirror. About two seconds later, my face materialized in the mirror. I was wearing a white veil and a wedding dress, which looked strange.
Thinking it was an illusion, I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again. By then, the scene disappeared, and the mirror went blank again.
I quickly stepped forward and picked up the strange mirror. I examined it carefully but couldn’t find anything unusual, so I put it down.
At that moment, I heard a faint sound. It was from the wardrobe.
My body was on high alert. I slowly walked to the wardrobe, took a deep breath, and pried it open.
A hidden door carved with complicated runes came to my view.
A startled gasp escaped my lips as I cautiously opened the door. Inside was a small hidden room filled with bright champagne roses.
My eyes widened in surprise. ‘How could someone plant roses indoors?’
Without thinking, I slowly stepped into the hidden room.
My breath caught in my throat as I saw pictures of me hanging in every corner of the room.
I broke into a cold sweat. Yana was also dumbfounded.
I stepped forward and carefully observed the pictures. Something seemed wrong.
That was when it dawned on me that the woman in the photo was not me but my mother. These pictures were taken before I was born when my mother was still young.
“Wow! These photos have been well preserved,” Yana exclaimed.
“Yes. My mom looks so happy in these pictures. Look at the way she’s smiling,” I said.
Judging from my mother’s gesture and expression, I guessed someone close to her must have taken these pictures.
I gradually revived from the shock. At this point, I realized my mother must have shared some sort of a relationship with Noreen.
Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many photos of my mother in Noreen’s secret room.
I knew this wasn’t just an illusion, for all the pictures looked so real. Only the things I had seen and witnessed would form an illusion in my mind.
I hadn’t seen my mother when she was young. Besides, there were pictures of her wearing her school uniform.
So I concluded it was neither an illusion nor a mystery. It was real. The secret room, the roses and the pictures were all real. It looked like someone wanted me to see all these pictures.
“Who the hell are you? Come out! Stop hiding in the dark and playing tricks,” I shouted at the empty hidden room.
Although there was no response, I believed the one behind all this must be listening to me.
“Why do you have photos of my mother? Why do you have my mother’s pendant? Don’t you have the guts to show yourself to me? Why are you being such a coward?”
My questions reverberated in the air.
Suddenly, the wind blew again, and the serpent hiding in the dark could no longer seem to conceal itself.
Just then, I sensed a strange aura around me.
Just as I was about to turn around, I felt strong hands pressing my shoulders, arresting me in place.
Then, a loud cackle filled the air.
It looked like they were laughing at me. I tried moving but had no strength to struggle or escape the vice-like grip.
Sylvia’s POV
I couldn’t struggle or break free from the grip. The one behind me was clinging to me with all their weight. My skin broke into goosebumps as the person’s smooth, icy skin touched mine.
“Sweetheart, it’s not good to run around this way.”
The hoarse voice of a woman rang in my ears.
Hearing that, I broke into a cold sweat.
I clenched my fists, trying to remain calm. “Are you Noreen?”
The woman responded with maniacal laughter. She neither denied it nor gave me a direct answer.
However, I wasn’t willing to give up. “Why do you have my mother’s photos? And what about the pendant?”
The woman didn’t answer my question. Instead, she called my mother’s name in a strange tone that sounded sweet and intimate, which only seemed to increase my suspicion.
‘Is she probably my mother’s sister?’
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