Lea's hands remained steady as she buttoned her blouse, smooth fingers slipping through the fine silk loops with practiced ease. The morning light seeped weakly through the kitchen window, turning the dust motes in the air into something almost golden, almost beautiful. But Lea didn't see it. She saw Gemini's smile. The slow, knowing curve of her lips. The smile she had worn in the basement was as if she understood something Lea didn't. And that thought, that possibility, was unacceptable.

  The house creaked around them, its wooden beams swollen from the night's dampness, the structure settling in silent protest. The scent of coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the ever-present musk of old wood and the faint rot of something buried deep within the walls. Behind her, Maddox leaned back in his chair, rolling a cigarette between his fingers, his posture one of absolute ease. Too relaxed. Too much for him.

  "You think too loud," he muttered, not looking up.

  Lea pulled her hair back with a ribbon, tying it tighter than necessary. "Am I?"

  Maddox smiled, tucking the cigarette between his lips, his voice carrying the quiet amusement of a man who had known her far too long. "You have that look."

  Lea arched an eyebrow and adjusted her gloves, the leather stretching as she flexed her fingers. "What look?"

  Maddox flicked his lighter open with a sharp metallic click. "The one that means someone is about to have a very bad day."

  Lea let the corner of her mouth twitch, but it wasn't a smile. "Then maybe they should have behaved."

  Maddox exhaled smoke, watching her with the same easy confidence, the unshakable belief that no matter what, no matter who, Lea was always right. "Are you sure she's worth all this energy?" His voice was slow, deliberate. "She's just a child."

  Lea's jaw tightened.

  She turned to face him fully, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. "She's watching. And there's something about the way she does it."

  Maddox chuckled and stretched his legs out under the table. "Like most people before you disembowel them."

  Lea didn't smile as usual at his remarks.

  Maddox sighed and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw. "You really want to go down there and knock the fight out of her?"

  Lea's lips curled, slow and sharp. "I don't have to knock it out of her." She pushed away from the counter and headed for the basement door. "I just need to remind her who's in charge."

  Maddox exhaled another slow puff of smoke. He didn't argue. Didn't try to stop her. He just watched her descend into the darkness.

  The cellar was colder than before. The air sat heavy, thick with damp, and something else, something that crept into the bones and coiled there, unwelcome. The lantern in Lea's hand cast jagged shadows against the walls as she stepped down, her boots barely making a sound.

  Gemini was waiting. She sat in the straw, back against the stone, one knee drawn lazily to her chest. She didn't flinch as Lea approached. Didn't tense. Didn't cower. She just smiled.

  Sandra, still curled up beside her, sat rigid. Not looking at Lea, but feeling her.

  Lea stopped in front of them, the light of the lantern washing over their faces. She let the silence stretch, let it settle on her skin. Gemini tilted her head. "Back so soon?"

  Lea's fingers twitched at the handle of the lantern. She knelt in front of Gemini, meeting their gaze. Measured. Cold. Absolute. "You think this is a game."

  Gemini blinked, slowly, lazily. "Aren't you the one who makes the rules?" she mused.

  Lea moved faster than she thought. Her hand shot out, fingers twisting in Gemini's hair, pulling her forward.

  Sandra gasped. The smirk slipped from Gemini's lips.

  Lea leaned forward, her voice low and deliberate. "If you want to play with me, little girl, you'd better come up with something sharper than that."

  Gemini didn't move. Didn't struggle. She just smiled. And whispered: "I already have."

  The candle went out. The cellar breathed.

  And for the first time in years, Lea felt it - something crawling, unseen, under her skin. Something watching her. She felt the smile.

  Heavy boots thumped on the stairs.

  Maddox.

  His lantern swayed as he walked, the flame too bright, casting wild, twisting shadows. He wasn't moving fast, wasn't in a hurry, but there was something in the way he held himself. Something wrong.

  Lea straightened. "Why are you down here?"

  Maddox didn't answer immediately. His eyes swept the room, from Sandra to Gemini and finally to her. Something flickered in his eyes. Something Lea did not like.

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  "I heard you," he said, his voice easy, casual - but it didn't match his face.

  Lea narrowed her eyes. "I wasn't yelling."

  Maddox hummed and stepped closer. He smelled of cold air and stale smoke, of exhaustion, buried deep in his bones. "You don't have to scream for me to hear you."

  Sandra stiffened. Lea didn't look at her. Didn't acknowledge the sudden surge of tension in the air. She just held Maddox's gaze.

  "Go back upstairs."

  But Maddox didn't move. Lea's fingers curled into fists at her sides. "Now."

  Something crossed his expression. Something complicated. He shifted, his jaw tightening - just slightly - before he let out a slow, measured breath. And then he looked at Gemini.

  Lea's stomach tightened. Not in jealousy. Not in fear.

  Gemini wasn't seducing him. Not in the way a desperate little girl might try to pull a man from his wife's arms. No, she was doing something worse.

  She was waiting.

  For Lea to slip.

  For Maddox to doubt.

  And Lea saw it.

  Because Lea knew what power looked like. And Gemini was learning.

  Lea stepped forward, closing the space between them. "Go. Upstairs."

  Maddox exhaled through his nose. His shoulders loosened, not in submission, but in something like understanding. Lea felt his gaze settle on her. He trusted her. Completely. And Gemini had seen that as well.

  Maddox smiled, but there was something softer beneath it, something that belonged only to her. "All right, boss."

  He turned, boots heavy on the stone as he headed back up the stairs. The door closed behind him. The lock clicked.

  Lea didn't immediately turn back to Gemini. She stared at the door for a moment, letting the room feel it. The decision Maddox had made. The line that had been drawn.

  Then Lea turned, slowly and deliberately.

  Gemini was still sitting, but now? Now she smiled again. And Lea knew it, with a certainty that settled deep in her ribs. The girl wasn't afraid of her. Not yet. But she would be.

  —————

  Lea washed her hands in the kitchen sink, scrubbing until the cold water numbed her fingers, the sharp chill seeping into her skin as if it could cleanse more than just the dirt. The smell of damp earth and mold clung to the farmhouse, thick and inescapable, pressing into the wooden beams, soaking into the bones of the house like something old, something rotting just below the surface. The walls groaned under the weight of the moisture, swollen boards shifting against each other, creaking under unseen pressure. The house had seen things. And now it was watching her.

  She lifted her hands from the water and flexed her fingers. They trembled.

  Lea never trembled.

  Exhaling slowly, she pressed her palms against the worn wood of the counter, grounding herself in its solidity. Behind her, Maddox leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, watching. Always watching. "You're upset," he murmured, his voice low, unreadable.

  Lea closed her eyes for a moment before turning her head slightly. "And?"

  Maddox grinned, pushing away from the frame. "And it's not like you."

  She grabbed a towel and dried her hands with sharp, quick movements, the rough fabric scraping against her skin. She was fine. She was always fine. She turned to him, her gaze sharp, unflinching. "The girl is a problem."

  Maddox exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, fingers running through his curls. "You keep saying that, but she's still locked in the damn basement, isn't she?"

  Lea didn't blink. "She's not trying to escape." Maddox arched his brow. "That's a problem?"

  "Yes."

  Maddox let out a soft breath through his nose and stepped closer. He smelled tobacco, warmth, something grounding and familiar. Lea didn't move.

  Maddox tilted his head, studying her the way he always did when he was trying to get something loose, trying to get under her skin. "You're not afraid of her." It wasn't a question.

  Lea's lips curled, but there was no humor in it. "No."

  Maddox's gaze lingered on her face, reading something she hadn't yet put into words. "Then what are you afraid of?"

  Lea became silent.

  Maddox had a habit of doing that - digging into things she hadn't fully acknowledged, things she wasn't ready to bring to the surface. She hated it.

  She turned away, setting the towel down with precise, controlled movements. "I'm not afraid of things." Maddox made a low sound in his throat, something close to amusement, but he didn't push. He watched her for a beat, then turned and walked away without another word.

  The kitchen felt colder when he was gone.

  Lea exhaled through her nose and rolled her shoulders back. Fine. If he didn't see her, she'd do it herself. She grabbed the lantern from the table, the weight of it solid in her grip, and walked to the basement door. It was time to end this.

  The basement was silent.

  Not the kind of silence that meant sleep, but the kind that meant waiting.

  Lea descended the stairs, each step slow, deliberate, the wooden planks groaning under her weight. The air was thick, suffocating, laced with the damp smell of rot, of something just beginning to decay. Somewhere beneath it all, a faint sweetness lingered, like fruit left too long in the heat.

  Sandra sat curled up against the far wall, eyes wide open, watching.

  Gemini was beside her, cross-legged in the straw, her arms draped over her knees, her posture lazy, unconcerned. She lifted her gaze as Lea approached.

  Lea's fingers tightened around the handle of the lantern. "You're awfully quiet," she murmured. Gemini tilted her head slightly. "Thinking." Lea arched a brow. "About?"

  Gemini's lips parted just enough as if tasting the air. Then, softly and deliberately: "You."

  Lea became very quiet. Sandra tensed beside her, small hands twitching against the straw. Gemini's smile deepened. "You don't like me," she mused. "That's okay. I wouldn't like me either if I were you."

  Lea exhaled, steady, measured. "Oh? And why is that?"

  Gemini leaned forward slightly, the flickering lantern light casting sharp shadows across her face. "Because you feel it," she whispered.

  Lea's jaw tightened. Gemini tilted her head, slowly and lazily. "It's under your skin, isn't it?"

  Lea didn't let her body betray even a flicker of the tension curling in her ribs. She had spent years perfecting her control. And yet her fingers itched slightly. The house moaned above them. The damp walls sighed.

  Sandra's lips parted. She knew. She had always been the quiet one, the cautious one. And now she watched Lea, eyes too sharp for a child. As if she could see the pieces coming apart. Gemini exhaled softly. "She feels it too." Sandra flinched.

  Lea finally moved, stepping closer, the lantern swaying at her side. "Enough."

  Gemini didn't blink. She smiled - slowly. Knowing. Final. She sighed. Like something being released. Like something breathing out for the first time in years. The walls groaned. The lantern flickered. And Lea felt something watching her again. It lunged.

  Fingers curled into Gemini's dress, pulling her forward, hard. Gemini's breath caught. Lea's body locked. She grew cold.

  Not the usual autumn chill. Something else. Something rotting. Swelling. Crawling under her skin. Her grip wavered. She let go. Too quickly. Gemini straightened her dress and tilted her head like a bird. And Lea could see it now. The thing behind Gemini's eyes.

  Not a girl.

  Not a child.

  Something else.

  Something that had been waiting.

  Lea's breath shook.

  Gemini's voice was soft. "I think you understand now."

  Lea's chest tightened. Her heart pounded.

  And for the first time in years, she wanted to scream.