Chapter 2 - The Silent Pupil
The first week was an exercise in suffocating silence.
The West Wing was vast, a gilded cage comprising a massive library, a sitting room, and two bedrooms. Maya tried to teach algebra, history, and literature, but Seraphina never spoke. She communicated only through scribbles on a legal pad.
Yes. No. I don't know.
But it was what Seraphina drew when she wasn't paying attention that made Maya’s blood run cold.
On a Tuesday afternoon, while Maya was grading a math worksheet, she noticed Seraphina aggressively shading a piece of paper. When the girl finally went to the bathroom, Maya leaned over the desk.
It wasn’t a doodle. It was a hyper-realistic charcoal sketch of the chateau. But in the drawing, the West Wing was engulfed in flames, and two identical girls were standing in the highest window, screaming. One girl was pushing the other out.
Maya gasped, dropping the paper as Seraphina walked back into the room. The girl looked at the dropped drawing, then up at Maya. For the first time, Seraphina’s eyes weren't blank. They were pleading.
That night, Maya lay awake in her adjoining suite. The ocean wind howled against the reinforced glass. She thought about the money. She thought about her family. She was supposed to keep her head down. But as she stared at the ceiling, she heard it.
A faint, rhythmic thudding from the walls.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
May you like
It was coming from Seraphina’s room. Maya slipped out of bed, her bare feet silent on the floorboards, and pressed her ear to the shared wall. It wasn't a random noise. It was Morse code.
H-E-L-P-M-E.
