Darkness wrapped the manor, swallowing even the house’s quiet breathing. Victor lay staring at the ceiling. Sleep would not come. His father’s face stayed before his eyes.

  Careful not to wake Mary, he rose. A draught from the corridor brushed his skin, but he barely noticed. He slipped on a robe and left the bedroom without a sound.

  The kitchen met him with dim half-light. Cold rose from the floor, creeping through the thin soles of his slippers. Victor opened the lower cupboard door and found the bottle of whisky hidden for occasions like this.

  His fingers trembled against the cut glass. The whisky burned his throat, but brought no relief. Bitterness settled beneath his ribs, beside the questions that kept sleep away.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  The voice came from behind.

  Victor turned. Logan stood in the doorway, arms folded.

  “So it got to you too,” Victor said.

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  Logan nodded toward the bottle.

  “Let me guess. You think a few more drinks will make his return easier to swallow?”

  Victor poured a second glass and held it out without a word.

  “Come on.”

  “Where?”

  “The terrace.”

  Logan paused, then took the glass and followed.

  The terrace greeted them with cool night air. An owl called in the distance. Victor set his glass on the railing and stared into the winter dark.

  “I never thought I’d see him again.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Logan said, taking a sip. “He always knew how to vanish, then reappear as if the past didn’t exist.”

  He tightened his grip on the glass.

  “Have you forgotten what it cost us at school? Being called the children of a ghost. Those taunts are still with me.”

  Victor shook his head.

  “I remember.”

  Logan stayed silent for a moment.

  “When he appeared on the doorstep today… I realised it was all starting again.”

  “What exactly?”

  “The secrets.”

  Logan reached into his inner pocket.

  “I don’t want to live with them anymore.”

  He drew out a yellowed envelope, one corner torn.

  Victor recognised their mother’s handwriting. His fingers trembled involuntarily.

  “You kept it after all…”

  “Yes,” Logan said quietly. “I think it’s time we found out what she wanted to say.”

  Victor reached for it.

  At that moment a crash came from inside the house. Something shattered. Light flared for an instant and died.

  The envelope slipped from Logan’s fingers and fell onto the frosted terrace boards.

  “In the sitting room!” Victor breathed.

  The brothers ran.