Chapter 332:

She sent the photo to Elias.

Aurora: He’s not a neighbor, Elias. He’s a ghost. He left a calling card in my grandmother’s greenhouse.

Elias: I’m at the Dorchester. Security team is inbound to your location. Stay inside.

Aurora looked at the photo.

“Checkmate soon,” she whispered.

Down the hall, Zoe was crying in the cold guest room. Xavier was staring at the ceiling, doubting everything.

And somewhere in the dark English countryside, the Gardener smiled.

The game had just moved to a new board. And this time, the pieces were made of blood.

The greenhouse at the edge of the Sterling estate was a skeleton of glass and iron, glowing faintly against the oppressive darkness of the English countryside. The rain hammered against the panes, sounding like a thousand frantic fingers tapping for entry.

Aurora moved through the wet grass, her boots sinking into the mud, the grip of her pistol slick in her hand. Elias was a shadow on her right, his weapon drawn, scanning the perimeter with thermal optics.

“Heat signature?” Aurora whispered into her comms.

“Negative,” Elias replied, his voice tight. “Inside is cold. No movement.”

“He said he was waiting,” Aurora hissed. She kicked the door open, leveling her gun at the center of the room.

Silence.

The potting tables were empty. The lantern she had seen earlier was gone. In the center of the room, where the Wolfsbane had been, sat a single, old-fashioned cassette player.

Click.

𝖁𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖞 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊: 𝖌𝖆𝖑𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖘[․]𝖈𝖔𝖒

The tape began to spin as they entered, triggered by a motion sensor. A voice crackled out—distorted, warped, but chillingly familiar. It wasn’t her father’s voice. It was a synthesized mockery of it.

“Did you run, Little Phoenix? Did you think the dead come back so easily? I’m not in the glass house. I’m in the walls. I’m in the roots. Go back to your toys. The game hasn’t even started.”

The tape clicked off. Then, a soft hiss. Smoke began to curl from the device—a self-destruct mechanism melting the plastic.

“Clear out!” Elias grabbed her arm, pulling her back into the storm just as the cassette player flared with a small, contained incendiary pop.

Aurora stood in the rain, staring at the wisp of smoke. Her chest heaved with unspent adrenaline. It was a psychological operation. A taunt to prove he could reach her, to prove he was watching.

“He’s toying with us,” she said, her voice shaking with rage. “He made me run out here for a magic trick.”

“He wants you unbalanced,” Elias warned, holstering his weapon. “He wants you chasing ghosts while the real threats move in the light.”

Aurora wiped the rain from her eyes. The cold water felt like clarity. “Fine. If he wants to play with distractions, I’ll clear the board. I can’t hunt a ghost while I have a parasite clinging to my family’s leg.”

She turned back toward the manor, her stride lethal. “Let’s finish the trash.”

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