Overthinking
ARIANA'S POV
I stood frozen behind the hedge, the night air slicing through the silk of my robe. My breath came in shallow bursts as I tried to steady my racing heart.
Uncle Garry.
No. It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be.
I leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing in the darkness, trying to get a better look. But the moonlight shifted, casting the man’s face back into shadow. He stood with his back turned now, the long coat he wore fluttering slightly in the breeze.
Still, I knew what I saw. That profile, that stance—I would’ve known him anywhere. I’d spent years seeing his face. There's no way I wouldn't recognize it.
But he was in prison.
He had to be in prison.
After what he did—after the trial, after the stabbing incident in the hospital, after everything—he was returned to prison under maximum security.
So how the hell was he here?
And more importantly… why was he here with my mother?
A bitter chill danced down my spine.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was someone else, and I just wanted it to be him because my mind was always searching for threats in the dark corners of peace. Maybe—
I held my breath as the man leaned down to whisper something into my mother’s ear. She… she nodded.
My pulse stuttered.
What the hell was going on?
I was about to step forward, to call out, to demand answers, but I stopped myself. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe it wasn’t Uncle Garry. Maybe this was someone new—someone she hadn’t told us about yet.
And honestly? Maybe she deserved that.
After everything she’d been through—the death of my father, the endless press scrutiny, the cold hospital rooms—maybe this was exactly what she needed. A fresh start. A secret happiness. Something untouched by the ghosts we’d all been trying to bury.
I stepped back quietly, letting the hedge swallow me in shadow again. I didn’t want to eavesdrop. I didn’t want to know more if I wasn’t supposed to. If this was something she was keeping for herself—for once—I wanted to respect that.
Still, something gnawed at me. That strange, persistent hum of unease in the pit of my stomach that refused to be silenced.
I turned one last time.
The man was standing now, facing away from me again. He lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my mother’s ear. She didn’t flinch.
I swallowed hard.
‘Maybe you’re just tired,’ I told myself as I slipped away from the garden. ‘Maybe you’ve spent so long fighting battles that you don’t know how to stand still.’
I walked quickly, retracing my steps through the garden and across the marble floors of the mansion. Every now and then, I glanced behind me, half-expecting to see that shadow again.
But no one followed.
I climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to reach the comfort of my room. I slipped inside, closed the door, and leaned back against it.
Silence greeted me.
Familiar. Safe. Almost.
I crossed to my bed and sank into it, the cool silk sheets wrapping around my legs. My phone buzzed once on the nightstand. I picked it up with a small flicker of hope, and sure enough, Hardin’s name lit up the screen.
“Good night, my love. I meant to say it earlier, but I got pulled into a call. Sleep well. I’m thinking of you.”
A warm smile curved my lips.
I held the phone to my chest for a moment, letting the words settle inside me like a soft balm.
Maybe everything really was okay.
Maybe I was just overthinking.
I set the phone down and curled into the pillow, exhaling the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
But even as my body relaxed, my mind kept spinning.
There had been no guards. No visitors announced. No late-night staff movements. How could someone just appear on our grounds—on my family’s grounds—without anyone knowing?
And more importantly, why hadn’t my mother told us anything? Not even a hint?
Was she hiding him?
I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to silence the questions clawing their way to the surface. Not tonight. Not again.
I deserved rest. Peace. A single night without fear wrapping itself around my ribs like barbed wire.
I closed my eyes and let the weight of the day pull me under.
Let go.
Breathe.
Forget.
Just for tonight.
***
I don’t know what woke me.
A sound? A feeling?
My eyes snapped open to the darkness, heart thudding wildly in my chest. I sat up slowly, listening.
Nothing.
The house was quiet. Still.
But that feeling was back. That creeping sense of being watched. Of being followed.
I pushed the covers back, slipping out of bed.
The clock read 2:37 AM.
The moon still hung high outside my window, casting a silver glow across the floorboards. I crossed the room and peered through the sheer curtains.
The garden was empty now. The bench was deserted. No sign of my mother. Or the man.
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
I turned to head back to bed—
—and stopped.
Something was… off.
My bedroom door. It was slightly ajar.
I knew I’d closed it. I always closed it.
A slow, icy dread slid down my spine.
I tiptoed across the room, heart in my throat, every hair on my body standing on end. I reached the door and gently pushed it shut, pressing the lock into place with trembling fingers.
Was I being paranoid?
Probably.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t alone.
I turned back toward the bed—
And screamed.
There was a figure standing in the middle of my room.
Just standing there. Watching.
My heart stopped.
I backed up so fast I tripped over the corner of the bed and fell to the floor, breath ripped from my lungs.
“Who—Who the hell are you?” I gasped.
No answer.
The figure didn’t move.
It was cloaked in shadow, tall and silent, face completely hidden beneath a hood.
“Get out!” I shouted, reaching blindly for something—anything—to defend myself.
The figure finally moved.
One slow step forward.
Then another.
The moonlight slanted just enough to catch a glint of something metallic in his hand.
I froze.
A ring.
Not just any ring.
My father’s signet ring.
The one that was buried with him.
My blood turned to ice.
“W-Where did you get that?” I whispered, throat raw.
Still, no answer.
The figure tilted its head slightly, like it was amused.
I scrambled to my feet and ran to the door, yanking it open—
Empty hallway.
I turned back to the room.
Gone.
No one there.
No trace. No sound. No shadow.
Just silence.
And the whisper of my name that seemed to echo inside my head.
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