Chapter 1828

The boy shook his head.

But the second Sol was already moving towards the window.

"Wait!" Jude shouted.

The other boy turned.

"You wanted to know why there are two of me?"

"Yes."

"Then ask the one standing beside you."

The first Sol stared at him.

The second boy climbed through the window.

Before disappearing, he looked over his shoulder.

"And Jude?"

"What?"

"Don’t take him home."

The window slammed shut.

The silver door closed.

The bedroom vanished.

Jude and Sol were left on the circular landing.

For several moments, neither spoke.

Then the dark wooden door marked JUDE opened.

Beyond it was the shared house.

Jude could hear familiar voices.

A pot being moved.

Someone laughing.

The clatter of plates.

He recognised Natalie calling out to Zoey. He heard Sophie asking someone to pass her a basket. Serena was complaining about a loose wooden board.

Home.

Jude approached the doorway.

Sol remained behind.

"Come on," Jude said.

The boy stared at the room beyond.

"That’s not our house."

"It looks like it."

"That’s what it wants you to think."

Jude stepped through.

The familiar smell of cooked food reached him.

The central table was set. The chairs were arranged around it. Sunlight entered through the windows.

Everything was exactly as he remembered.

Then Natalie appeared from the kitchen.

"Jude!"

She hurried towards him.

"What happened to you? We’ve been looking everywhere!"

Jude stopped.

"Natalie?"

She frowned.

"Of course. Who else?"

He looked towards the table.

All twelve women were there.

Susan was pouring water into a cup. Rose was arranging flowers. Serena was sitting beside Sophie. Layla was near the window, holding a basket of freshly washed vegetables.

Every one of them looked perfectly normal.

But Jude counted the chairs.

Thirteen.

And one more stood at the end of the table.

Fourteen.

A pale cloth covered it.

"Where’s Sol?" Natalie asked.

Jude looked behind him.

The doorway was empty.

"Sol?"

Nobody answered.

Jude turned back to the women.

"Where is he?"

Emma looked confused.

"Who?"

"Sol."

A silence fell across the room.

Layla slowly put down her basket.

Then she looked at Jude.

"Who is Sol?"

Jude felt the room tilt.

"You know who he is."

Layla shook her head.

"I don’t."

"Don’t do this."

Sophie stood.

"Jude, what’s wrong?"

He looked at her.

"Tell me you remember the boy we found on the beach."

Sophie stared at him.

Then she looked towards the others.

A strange uneasiness passed between them.

Scarlet spoke first.

"Jude, we never found anyone on the beach."

He took a step backwards.

"No."

"We were never at the beach that morning," Rose said softly.

"Stop."

Susan approached him.

"Perhaps you’re tired."

Jude looked around the room.

He knew these women.

He knew their voices, their habits, their laughter.

He knew that Serena always sat with one leg folded beneath her. He knew that Emma kept a little flower in her hair whenever she worked in the garden. He knew that Sophie never left a book open on the table.

But something was wrong.

Their shadows.

Every shadow in the room pointed towards the pale cloth-covered chair.

Even though the sunlight came from the windows.

Jude looked at Layla.

"Where did you get that basket?"

She glanced down.

"This?"

"Yes."

"From the eastern river."

Jude’s blood ran cold.

The same answer.

The same place.

The same words.

He remembered the strange Layla who had returned wearing the pale embroidered cloth.

He stepped away from the table.

"Where is the real Layla?"

All twelve women looked at him.

Then, slowly, every face turned towards the woman beside the window.

Layla.

She smiled.

"I’m right here."

A faint creaking sound came from beneath the table.

Jude looked down.

The wooden floorboards were opening.

A silver thread emerged from the gap and travelled towards the pale chair.

Then another.

And another.

The cloth began to move.

Someone was sitting beneath it.

"Jude," Natalie whispered.

He looked at her.

"Don’t sit down."

Her voice was no longer warm.

It was frightened.

"Don’t let the chair remember you."

The pale cloth slipped from the chair.

A small boy sat there.

Dark hair.

Pale face.

Silver crescent pendant tied around his wrist.

Sol.

But he was not looking at Jude.

He was looking at Layla.

And Layla was looking at him.

For a moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.

Then Sol spoke.

"That’s the one."

Jude turned towards him.

"What?"

The boy slowly raised his hand.

His finger pointed at Layla.

"She remembers everything."

Layla’s smile disappeared.

The other women began moving away from the table.

Jude looked between them.

"What is happening?"

Sol stood.

The wooden chair creaked beneath him.

"The house has found the missing memory."

Layla took one step forward.

"Don’t listen to him."

Sol continued.

"She isn’t the one you lost."

Layla’s eyes filled with tears.

"Jude, please."

"Then who are you?" Jude asked.

She looked at him.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Then she whispered:

"I’m the Layla who stayed."

The floor shook.

The table split apart.

The walls stretched upwards, and roots burst through the wooden boards. They climbed the pillars and spread across the ceiling. The windows disappeared behind layers of dark wood.

The shared house was changing again.

The women began calling Jude’s name.

Some reached towards him.

Others backed away.

But the Layla near the window didn’t move.

She looked directly at Sol.

"You shouldn’t have brought him here."

Sol lowered his hand.

"I didn’t."

"Then why does he remember?"

The boy’s expression changed.

Jude stepped between them.

"Enough. Both of you. Tell me what’s happening."

Layla looked at him.

"The first house is not beneath the tree."

Jude frowned.

"What?"

"It is not the house you saw in the forest. It is not the wooden room. It is not the house wrapped in roots."

The roots around them tightened.

"The first house is here."

She placed her hand against her chest.

"It’s been here all along."

A bell rang.

The walls stopped moving.

Every root went still.

Then a deep voice spoke from somewhere far beneath the floor.

"THE KEEPER HAS RETURNED."