Whispers of the Past (Chapter 02)

Maya couldn't help but feel that the walls of the house were closing in on her. The letter she had just read left her gasping, the burden of her mother's secret weighing heavily on her breast. Who was her mother really? And what kind of life had she lived that she had kept hidden for so long?

James, the man who had brought the box, stood silently by the door, watching her. His presence was heavy but silent, as if he knew something and was not telling her.

"Who was she?" Maya asked, her voice trembling. "My mother. What did she hide from me?"

James took a deep breath, but before he could answer, a thudding sound upstairs startled Maya into leaping. She stared upwards at the ceiling with a racing heart. It was as if the house itself was responding to her questions, as if something was patrolling in the darkness.

I'll explain to you later," James said, his voice low and almost pleading. "But first, you need to go find something—something your mother wanted you to see."

Maya creased her brow, still holding the letter in her hand. "What are you talking about? What else is there?

James pointed down the hallway. "There is a room upstairs. A room that hasn't seen the light of day in years. Your mother never let anyone near it. But I think now is the time. Go upstairs, look for it. You'll know when you do."

Maya hesitated. She had always been told to stay out of the rooms that were locked. When she was a child, there had been a part of the house she was never allowed to enter. Her mother had made sure of that. But now, with everything changing, it was as if the house itself was calling her to uncover its secrets.

“Alright,” Maya said, determination setting in. “I’ll find it.”

James nodded solemnly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

As Maya ascended the staircase, the old wooden steps creaked beneath her weight. The house seemed to grow quieter, the silence almost suffocating. The air in the hallway felt colder, and she could almost feel the pulse of the house, urging her to open the door that had been shut for so long.

There in the end of the hall, it stood—this door which had always been locked. Not like the rest, the ordinary wooden doors with brass knobs. This one was ancient, its frame adorned with intricate carvings, as if something out of an ages-past age.

Maya's fingers brushed against the handle by mistake, and to her surprise, it rotated easily. She pushed the door open, a musty smell of dust and age in the air. Inside, the room was dark, but a faint light from the hallway seeped in, casting shadows on white-covered furniture, bookshelves along the walls, and an old wooden trunk in the corner.

It was like walking into a time capsule—a glimpse into a life her mother had lived before Maya was born. The room was. sacred, as though something had been preserved for a purpose that was yet to be understood.

Maya walked in slowly, her heart racing. She approached the chest in the corner, the creaking of the floorboards beneath her the only sound. She opened it, kneeling.

Inside, there were more letters—handwritten notes in her mother's familiar handwriting, but also photographs of people Maya did not recognize. There were old black-and-white pictures of a man who looked like James uncannily—his eyes sharp, his face serious. And then there were pictures of her mother, young and vibrant, her eyes shining, but the connection between them felt distant, unreal.

She halted before one that made her stop—her mother beside the same man, smiling, with their hands held together. A wedding photograph.

Maya's breath was trapped in her throat. Maya had never been aware that her mother had been married before she married her father. Who was this man? And why had her mother never mentioned this to her?

She pulled out a small bundle of letters knotted in a ribbon and unfolded them with delicacy. Every one of the letters was addressed to someone named Daniel, a name Maya had never heard mentioned in her mother's life.

The first letter read as follows:

"Daniel,

I don't know how much longer I can keep going through the motions. You know as well as I do that my marriage to Tom was a mistake. I never loved him, and he never loved me. It was always you, and I know we can't continue to hide from this. But I can't leave him—yet. Maya needs me. I need a little time. Be patient, please. You know how much I love you.

– Elizabeth"

Elizabeth.

Maya stared at the name. It was her mother's name, but the feeling the name evoked—the tone of it—was not something Maya's mother had ever expressed. Her mother had never mentioned a Daniel. Her mother had never mentioned anything that would even imply an affair, a secret affair, or a different life than the one they'd shared.

Maya raised another letter.

"Daniel,

I've decided. The affair we've had is over. I can't go on like this, no more. I've hurt Tom, and I've hurt Maya. It's time to leave the past behind. We both need to move on, for our own good.

– Elizabeth

Maya's hands shook and she allowed the letter to drop back into the chest. Her mind was racing, her heart thumping in her chest. What is this? What is her mother telling her in these letters?

She rose, her world whirling around her at the realization that struck her. Her mother had been hiding it all from her her entire life. The secretive love affair, the man of mystery in photographs—Maya had no idea what to think anymore.

Walking out of the room, she could feel the coldness set in, like the house had once again drawn a step further toward revealing its darkest secrets.

But who was Daniel? And why had Maya's mom left this mystery for her to solve?

To be continued…