Chapter 61: The Forgotten Child
The heavy door groaned on rusted hinges, opening like it hadn't been touched in a decade.
A cloud of stale dust exploded into the hall, setting off a wave of violent coughing. Even the creature shrank back, shielding its twisted face as its eyes watered from the grit in the air.
Once the air cleared, they stepped across the threshold.
The room wasn't what they expected.
It was a nursery.
Even buried under grey grime, you could see how much effort had gone into building it. The wooden furniture had rounded edges and carved designs, holding a faint, leftover warmth from better times.
The creature didn't hesitate. It scrambled past them, darting straight for the small bed in the corner.
It lost its tense, limping posture, practically pouncing onto the dusty mattress. It rolled across the covers and patted the wood frame like it had missed the place desperately.
Nuri scanned the walls.
Bright painted suns and cartoon animals peeked through the layer of dust.
"I know this is supposed to be sweet, but my skin is crawling," Alina muttered, her fingers trailing along the wall.
"How so?"
Nuri didn't get it.
"I don't know," she said, pulling her hand back. "It just feels... wrong."
She didn't elaborate, which only made Nuri's head spin trying to figure out what she meant. Instincts were weird, but Alina's gut was rarely wrong.
He looked around the room again, searching for whatever Truman wanted them to find.
Just a couple of small wooden chairs, a low table, and a box of old toys.
Where was the big reveal? Was it buried? Hidden behind a floorboard?
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"Wait," Alina said, pointing at the bed frame. "Isn't something missing?"
"Under the mattress?"
"Yeah! Think about it," she said, stepping closer. "Remember the servants' quarters downstairs? Even the butler's bed had that hidden box built under the wooden frame. It was obvious because of how thick the base was."
Nuri blinked. She was right. Every bed on the lower floors had been built with that same secret compartment underneath.
Why would the nursery bed be any different?
He dropped to his knees and checked underneath.
Nothing. Just bare floorboards and dust bunnies.
"It's empty," Nuri said.
He started to push himself up, but the creature suddenly leaped off the mattress and landed right next to him.
Nuri locked up.
He held his breath, his heart hammering against his ribs as the thing leaned in. Its shallow, ragged breathing brushed right past his ear.
He stared straight ahead, forcing himself not to flinch, until the creature backed off and limped toward the corner.
Nuri let out a quiet, shaking breath.
The creature reached a wooden toy chest and started digging through it furiously, tossing plastic blocks and stuffed animals over its shoulders.
Nuri and Alina had to duck as a wooden horse flew past their heads.
Finally, the noise stopped.
The creature turned around, limping back over to Nuri. Without making a sound, it held out a grayed, folded piece of paper.
Nuri took it carefully.
His eyes widened.
It was a photograph. Talia, looking years younger and smiling brightly, was sitting right here in this nursery holding a wrapped baby. The kid looked just like a younger Truman.
Nuri looked up at the creature's face.
Why show him this?
Then he saw the wet tracks.
Tears were leaking out of those hollow eye sockets, running down its cracked, deformed skin. It sat on its haunches like a beat-up dog, weeping without making a sound.
Nuri looked at Alina, completely lost.
Alina didn't say a word. She crouched down, reached out, and wrapped her arms around the creature's hunched shoulders.
The monster went rigid.
Then, slowly, it leaned its heavy, misshapen head into her chest.
"Are you... Truman?" Alina asked softly.
No answer. Maybe its throat couldn't form words anymore.
It just cried harder, its whole body shaking with quiet, miserable grief.
Alina tightened her grip. "This is horrible... What kind of curse turns a kid into this?"
"A truly terrible one, isn't it?"
A voice spoke up from the doorway.
Both siblings whipped around, Alina's hand flying to her belt.
Lucien leaned against the doorframe, casually brushing dust off his dark sleeve.
He glanced at the crying creature in Alina's arms.
"Not its fault, either," Lucien said, his tone flat. "This whole mess happened because Talia made a mistake."
He shook his head, a dry, faint breath escaping his lips.
"Can you believe it? And now they're the ones paying the price for it."
He looked at the creature with cold, quiet eyes. "Such a pity."
He pressed a hand to his cheek, his golden eyes completely unbothered. "She doesn't even regret it. It takes a real piece of work to be that thick-skinned."
Lucien raised his hand, idly twirling a strand of golden hair around his index finger.
"Tragic, really," he murmured. "Being born to a woman like Talia."