The town of Ashmere always seemed wrapped in gray. Even on sunny days the light felt tired.. like it had to fight its way through years of smoke and worry. Elara Venn watched it fade from the window of her family's narrow house, the walls thin enough to hear every argument, every sigh that came with another unpaid bill.
Her father sat at the kitchen table, head bowed over a letter sealed in gold wax, the mark of the Alderidges.
"They've given us one last chance," he muttered. His voice was rough, cracked from sleepless nights.
Her mother's fingers twisted a handkerchief. "They'll take everything if we refuse. The farm, the house… even this table."
Elara already knew what "one last chance" meant. Adrian Alderidge, their son, polished as a coin, spoil and pampered, and twice as cold had been calling on her for months. Every visit ended with his thin smile and his mother's eyes measuring her like merchandise. Tonight the letter made it official.
Her father looked up. "He's a good man, Elara. The family will be secure."
She forced herself to breathe. Secure, he said, not happy. "And if I don't love him?"
"Love doesn't fill empty cupboards," her mother snapped, then softened. "You'll learn. You always learn."
The word love felt fragile on her tongue, like glass about to shatter. She left the table before the tears came, stepping outside into the cool dusk. The air smelled of rain and chimney smoke. Beyond the fields, the forest loomed old.. endless, whispering. Somewhere past those trees lay the ruins of Vale Estate, the burned-out mansion her grandmother once spoke of when Elara was small.
"Never wander there," her grandmother had warned. "The fire didn't kill everything."
Back then, Elara had laughed. Now, the memory felt like a door half-open in her mind.
She walked toward the edge of town, where the dirt road met the woods. The first drops of rain began to fall, silvering her hair. She imagined herself disappearing into those shadows, leaving debts and promises behind. But the echo of her parents voices fearful pleading anchored her feet to the ground.
When she returned home, the engagement ring was already waiting on her pillow. A simple gold band, beautiful and suffocating. Her father stood in the doorway, eyes tired but hopeful. "He'll call for you tomorrow," he said.
Elara picked up the ring, feeling the weight of every decision she hadn't been allowed to make. She knew too well her life thereafter would be of same fate as a slave if not worse.. literally.
Outside, thunder rolled over Ashmere. The candle by her bed flickered, and for an instant she thought she saw a shape beyond the window.. tall, unmoving, watching. When she blinked, it was gone.
She pressed the ring into her palm until it hurt, whispering to the storm, "There has to be more than this."
The wind answered with a low moan from the forest, a sound almost like a voice calling her name.
Elara shivered. Somewhere in the distance, the ruins waited and something beneath their stones seemed to stir.