Evelyn’s POV
I woke up to the sound of someone knocking softly on my bedroom door. For a few seconds, I stayed underneath my blanket pretending I couldn’t hear it.
Knock. Knock.
“Evelyn?”
I opened one eye.
“Evelyn, I know you’re awake.”
I groaned and pulled the blanket over my face.
“Go away, Edmund.”
The door opened.
“I knew it.”
I sat up and glared at him.
“You know nothing.”
Edmund stood in the doorway with a tray in his hands. He had a ridiculous smile on his face.
“Good morning, birthday girl.”
I looked at the tray.
“What is that?”
“Breakfast.”
“You cooked?”
He looked offended.
“I prepared it.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He laughed and walked into the room, placing the tray on my bedside table.
“Fine. I supervised the preparation.”
I shook my head.
“Exactly.”
He pulled the curtains open, allowing sunlight to flood into my room.
I immediately covered my eyes.
“Edmund!”
“You need sunlight.”
“I need sleep.”
“You’re eighteen now. You’re too old to sleep until noon.”
I lowered my hands and stared at him.
“I’m eighteen, not eighty.”
“That attitude is exactly why I worry about you.”
Edmund had always been like this he was serious when he needed to be, but he had a way of making even ordinary mornings feel special.
He was the person who remembered every birthday and every achievement. He had been there for practically my entire life and yet there was one thing he had never given me, the truth about my mother, Amelia
I looked at the tray again.
“You remembered.”
“Of course I remembered.”
“The pancakes?”
“Your favorite.”
I smiled.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He started walking toward the door.
“Wait.”
He turned.
“Hmm?”
I studied him for a moment.
“Do I get my birthday present now?”
“You’re impatient.”
“I’ve been waiting eighteen years.”
His smile faded slightly.
I noticed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Edmund.”
He sighed.
“Get dressed first.”
“It’s your birthday. Let’s not start arguing before breakfast.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You’re hiding something.”
“I’m always hiding something.”
“That isn’t funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
He left before I could respond.
I stared at the closed door.
Something about his expression had bothered me,It wasn’t his usual teasing smile there had been something almost nervous in his eyes then I pushed the thought away and got ready.
By the time I came downstairs, Edmund was waiting for me in the sitting room he had decorated the place with pink and red ribbons.
I stopped at the doorway.
“You did all this?”
He looked proud.
“Of course.”
I walked around the room, looking at the decorations.
There were photographs everywhere.
Most of them were pictures of me growing up.
My first day of school, My tenth birthday, My first dance, My fifteenth birthday.
Then I noticed one photograph sitting on the mantel.
My mother, I stopped and she was smiling.
I had seen the picture before, but something about seeing it on my birthday made my chest ache, I reached for it.
“Why did you put this here?”
Edmund’s voice softened.
“Because she should be here.”
I swallowed.
“You barely talk about her.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
I turned toward him.
“Today I’m eighteen.”
“I know.”
“And you promised.”
His expression changed.
“I remember.”
“When I was younger, you always said I wasn’t old enough.”
“Yes.”
“Then you said I’d understand when I was sixteen.”
“I was wrong.”
“Then you said eighteen.”
He nodded.
“So?”
He walked toward the window.
“I kept my promise.”
My heart began beating faster.
“You’re going to tell me?”
“Not yet.”
I groaned.
“Edmund!”
He laughed.
“Tonight.”
“Why tonight?”
“Because I want your birthday to be about you first.”
“I’ve spent my entire life wondering about her.”
“I know.”
“Then why make me wait?”
He looked at me.
“Because once you know the truth, you can’t unknow it.”
His words made me uncomfortable.
“What kind of truth is that?”
“The kind that changes everything.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he smiled.
“Come on. We have somewhere to go.”
“Where?”
“My workshop.”
I stared at him.
“That’s your idea of a birthday celebration?”
“Wait until you see.”
The workshop was only a short walk away, I had been there countless times.It was an old building filled with clocks of every shape and size.
The moment I stepped inside, I heard the familiar ticking.
Hundreds of clocks.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
It was almost comforting.
“Why do you love clocks so much?” I asked.
Edmund smiled.
“Because they never lie.”
“Clocks lie all the time.”
“No. People read them incorrectly.”
I laughed.
“You always say strange things.”
“That’s why you like me.”
He walked toward the largest clock in the room.
I followed him.
“What are we doing?”
“There’s something I’ve wanted to show you for years.”
He reached behind the clock and pulled out a small brass key.
My smile disappeared.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll see.”
He inserted the key into a tiny hole hidden beneath the clock.
There was a click then part of the wall moved.
I stared.
“What?”
A narrow doorway had appeared.
I stepped closer.
“You have a secret room?”
Edmund nodded.
“You’ve been hiding an entire room from me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t ready.”
I looked at him.
“I think I’m ready now.”
He held the door open.
“That’s what I was hoping.”
I followed him inside but the room was smaller than I expected. Dust covered the shelves and documents were stacked in boxes and several clocks.
But one thing immediately caught my attention, it was a photograph then I walked toward it.
“Is that my mother?”
Edmund came closer.
“Yes.”
She was standing beside him.
But neither of them was smiling.
They looked serious.
Almost frightened.
I touched the glass protecting the photograph.
“What happened here?”
Edmund remained silent.
I turned toward him.
“You said you would tell me.”
“I will.”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
“Promise?”
He looked directly at me.
“I promise.”
I smiled.
For the first time, I felt like I was finally going to get the answers I had spent years searching for.
But as we left the room, I noticed something strange.
The clock behind us had stopped.
Its hands pointed exactly at twelve.
I frowned.
“Edmund?”
He turned.
“What?”
“The clock.”
His face changed, then he looked at it for several seconds and he quietly closed the hidden door.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Why did it stop?”
“It sometimes does.”
“You’re lying.”
He looked at me.
“Enjoy your birthday, Evelyn.”
I wanted to ask more but instead, I nodded.
I didn’t know then that the clock stopping at twelve would become the first warning.
And I certainly didn’t know that before the next day that Edmund would disappear.
