The road to Aldergrove twisted through quiet countryside, the kind of landscape that had always made Aria Voss feel like an outsider in her own childhood. She had grown up in the city, raised mostly by tutors, nannies, and, eventually, corporate mentors. Her father lived on his private jet, and her mother existed in the glossy pages of business magazines so the estate had belonged almost exclusively to one figure which was Grandmother Elowen.
Elowen Voss.
A name that tasted like cold stone and lavender tea.
A woman who could silence a room simply by lifting an eyebrow.
Aria hadn't seen her in almost fifteen years.
Now, the estate belonged to her.
She slowed her black sedan as the wrought-iron gate rose into view. Two carved pillars flanked it, each etched with ivy patterns so intricate they looked alive. The gate itself was older than any skyscraper she had ever worked in, its metal blackened by time and storms.
Her driver an older man named Lennox who had served the Voss family for decades cleared his throat softly.
"Miss Voss," he murmured, "we're here."
Aria exhaled. "It feels smaller than I remember."
Lennox gave her a sympathetic look in the rear view mirror. "Most things do when we return as adults."
With a groan of rusted hinges, the gate swung open. The driveway curved through a canopy of towering oaks whose branches knotted together like arthritic fingers. It was late afternoon, and the sinking sun painted everything gold, even the dust kicked up by their tires.
As they drove deeper, the estate revealed itself slowly, reluctantly through breaks in the trees. The main mansion stood at the end of the drive, a sprawling structure of gray stone and dark wood, with gabled roofs and wide windows that reflected the last light of day. Vines draped along its walls, turning the architecture into something between a home and a relic.
Aria stepped out of the car before Lennox could come around to open the door. The scent hit her instantly earthy, floral, damp. The smell of moss after rain. The smell of Aldergrove.
A shiver ran through her.
You're the last Voss woman now, she thought.
Whether you want to be or not.
Lennox retrieved her bags and followed her toward the large front doors. He walked slower than he used to, she noticed. Or maybe she had simply never noticed at all.
"Will you be all right tonight?" he asked gently. "The staff can stay until you're settled."
"I'll manage," Aria replied. She didn't like being watched when she felt vulnerable, and returning to Aldergrove felt vulnerable with a capital V. "But thank you."
Lennox nodded. "There's food stocked in the kitchen. And I replaced the bulbs in the hallways. This house doesn't like to stay bright."
Aria blinked. "The house doesn't like it?"
He cleared his throat. "Old wiring, I mean."
But his eyes flickered to the walls, and Aria wondered for the first time if he believed something lived in this place beyond memories.
A gust of wind blew through the trees, making the branches creak like old bones.
Lennox hesitated as he set down her last suitcase. "If you need anything, anything at all you call me. No matter the hour."
"I will," she promised.
He left reluctantly, as if he expected the estate to swallow her whole once he drove away.
The interior was exactly as she remembered and completely foreign at the same time. The foyer opened into a grand staircase with polished oak railings and dusty chandeliers that should have sparkled, but didn't. Thick rugs muted her footsteps. Portraits lined the walls stern faced ancestors with eyes too knowing for comfort.
Aria avoided looking at them as she explored.
The drawing room still smelled faintly of incense and jasmine from her grandmother's strange habits. The library was cluttered with old books in languages Aria couldn't understand. The conservatory had long sheet covered furniture and cracked tiles, as if frozen in time.
But the house staff had cleaned enough to make the place livable.
Livable. But not warm.
Never warm.
Aria dropped her bag onto a velvet armchair and wandered toward the windows. Outside, the estate stretched wide more like a private world than a property. Beyond the lawns, beyond the old stone wall that ran parallel to the driveway, she saw it.
The garden.
It had always been hidden behind a tall wall. As a child, she had only glimpsed the top of it from her bedroom window. The gate had been sealed, always sealed, no matter how much she begged to be allowed inside.
Her grandmother had simply said:
"Not yet."
Aria narrowed her eyes. Even from here, even in fading light, the garden looked too lush, too orderly. As if someone maintained it meticulously… despite it supposedly being locked and unwatched.
Unease prickled the back of her neck.
She turned away and headed to the kitchen to make tea. The kettle rattled as it heated, steam rising like a silent ghost. She wrapped her hands around a warm mug and leaned against the counter.
Her phone buzzed.
Caleb CFO
Update on the investor meeting? They want your proposal tomorrow.
Aria groaned. She had run a Fortune 500 company through two recessions and three mergers, but this estate, this inheritance felt infinitely more stressful.
She typed:
Push it to 10 AM. I need files from legal first.
Another buzz.
Done. How long will you be away?
She hesitated.
Truthfully?
She didn't know.
The estate gave her the same sensation as stepping onto an elevator with no floor indicator some mix of thrill and dread, anticipation and unknown.
She sent a short reply.
I'll be back tomorrow night.
She hoped.
Night settled over Aldergrove like a heavy curtain. Shadows crept across the floors. The chandeliers flickered unpredictably, as if the house exhaled and the light shuddered in response.
Aria wandered upstairs to the master bedroom she had once slept in as a child. The bed was freshly made. The windows were open just a crack, letting in a whisper of cold air.
She changed into comfortable clothes and sat on the edge of the bed, sipping the remainder of her tea.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
Her eyes drifted to the window… and the garden wall beyond it.
Something moved.
Not a person. Not an animal. Something.
A faint pulse of light,silver and blue glimmered just over the wall. It was there only a moment, then gone.
Aria stood, pressing her hand against the glass.
"What… was that?"
A trick of reflection? A firefly? A flashlight?
No. This estate was too isolated for visitors. And fireflies didn't glow that color.
She grabbed a robe and headed downstairs, her instincts churning. She didn't bother turning on lights the moon cast enough illumination through the tall windows to guide her steps.
She exited through the back doors, her breath forming pale clouds in the cool air.
The night garden hummed with crickets and wind. The wall loomed ahead, tall and imposing. The air smelled strangely sweet like overripe fruit mixed with something floral.
Aria approached the wall slowly.
No more light.
No movement.
Nothing.
Just the faint sensation of… presence.
She reached out and placed her palm against the ancient stone. It was cool, rough, real. ordinary. But something beneath her hand vibrated so faintly she wasn't sure if she felt it or imagined it.
A whisper brushed her ear.
Or maybe it was the breeze through the vines.
She stepped back. "Okay. Enough for tonight."
As she turned to leave, her foot brushed something half buried in the grass. She bent down and picked it up.
A metal object glinted in the moonlight.
A key.
Old. Ornate. Engraved with curling ivy designs identical to the gate's pillars.
Her breath stalled.
"The garden key," she whispered.
But… how? Why here? Why now?
Her grandmother had sworn no one could open the garden without her.
And Elowen Voss had been dead for five days.
Aria tightened her grip around the key as an instinctive chill swept through her. The garden loomed behind her like a silent watcher, and she couldn't shake the feeling that the estate had given her this.
A gift.
Or a warning.
She walked back toward the mansion, the key cold as ice in her hand, her heartbeat loud in the night.
Tomorrow, she decided, she would test the gate.
Tonight… she would try to sleep.
But as she slipped back inside, she felt it again the prickling sensation that something unseen had followed her to the door.
Something waiting.
Something watching.
She turned slowly.
Nothing but moonlight and shadows.
Yet the air pulsed with a subtle, electric truth:
The garden was awake.
And now, so was she.