Morning came wrapped in fog.
It pressed against the windows like breath on glass. Ivy stayed in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, trying to decide if the knocks from last night had been real—or just her imagination playing tricks on her.
Eventually, she sat up.
Something on her bedside table caught her eye.
A black ribbon.
Neatly folded. Soft velvet. Definitely not hers.
Ivy's heart skipped.
It hadn't been there when she went to sleep.
She picked it up carefully and looked around the room. The door was still locked. She remembered turning the key herself.
Her fingers brushed the ribbon.
"Miles."
The thought came instantly. She didn't question it. Somehow, she just knew.
And that knowledge made her chest feel tight.
At breakfast, Ivy barely ate.
Flora hummed happily, drawing shapes on her toast with jam. Kate looked worn down, dark circles under her eyes, hair pulled back in a messy knot.
"I think I need a day in town," Kate said quietly to Mrs. Grose. "Just to clear my head."
"Of course," Mrs. Grose replied. "I'll watch the children."
"Ivy can help," Kate added. "Flora listens to her."
Ivy nodded absently. The ribbon felt heavy in her pocket.
Later, Ivy sat in the garden with Flora, listening to stories about frogs and fairies she'd heard a dozen times already.
Her attention kept drifting upward—to the house.
She felt it again.
That feeling of being watched.
Ivy looked up.
A curtain moved.
Her stomach tightened.
Inside, she wandered the hallway without thinking. Her steps slowed as she reached the small room beside hers.
Miles's room.
The door stood wide open.
Inside, everything looked the same.
Except for one thing.
A drawing.
Pinned to the wall.
Ivy stepped closer.
It was her.
Her face, her eyes, the way she twisted her fingers when she was nervous. Rough lines, but unmistakable.
Her breath caught.
"I did it last night."
Ivy spun around.
Miles leaned against the doorway, calm as ever.
"I hope that's okay," he said. "I wanted to remember you."
"You were in my room," Ivy whispered.
He didn't deny it.
"You looked lonely," he said softly.
There was something in his voice that made her uneasy. Not anger. Not fear.
Ownership.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I like looking at you," he said. "I think about you when you're not around. What you're doing. If you're thinking about me too."
Her heart raced.
"Miles, that's—"
"Too much?" he asked gently.
She didn't answer.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn leather bracelet.
"It used to be mine," he said. "I want you to have it."
She hesitated, then took it. Their fingers touched. He didn't let go right away.
"Now," he said quietly, "you have something of me."
He smiled.
That night, Ivy lay awake.
The ribbon was tied loosely in her hair. The bracelet circled her wrist.
She told herself she should take them off. That this wasn't normal. That she should tell Kate.
But she didn't.
She curled onto her side and hugged the pillow close.
And for the first time since arriving at Bly—
She found herself hoping she'd see Miles again.