Chapter 23: Unraveling Threads

  "I will come back later, I promise."

  "Stay here."

  "And if I don’t make it, you could say that it’s the best thing that’s happened to this planet."

  Cold. Detached. A promise wrapped in indifference.

  Sky’s voice was small but steady as he recited the words, his gaze distant as if recalling them from a long-etched memory.

  Cassian swallowed down the uneasy feeling creeping up his spine.

  "And you... you didn’t find it strange?" he asked carefully.

  Sky hummed, rocking slightly on the chair. “I did, but he was always like that. He didn’t lie—he just said things in a way that didn’t feel… right.” His little fingers drummed lightly against the wooden surface. “Like when he used to tell me ‘I love you’… It sounded real. But also… not real.”

  Cassian remained silent, watching Sky closely.

  The boy shifted, hugging his knees to his chest. "But I knew he meant it in his way."

  Yeah A psychopath’s way.

  Cassian exhaled slowly, tilting his head toward the bookshelf.

  If the real Cassian Starfall had gone through the trouble of hiding his little brother, he had to have had a reason. Psychopath or not, there was some form of intent behind his actions.

  What had he been planning?

  What had he been preparing for?

  And more importantly—

  What had gone wrong?

  "Sky," Cassian said after a moment, keeping his voice even, "you told me before that you and your brother could feel each other’s presence, right?"

  Sky blinked. “Mhm.”

  “Do you still feel him?”

  A beat of silence.

  Then, Sky slowly shook his head. “No,” he murmured. “It’s like… something got cut off.” His fingers clenched slightly in his oversized sleeves. “At first, I thought it was because he was too far. But even if someone’s far away, you can still feel something... faintly. But with him—” He swallowed. “It’s like he’s gone.”

  Cassian didn’t miss the way Sky’s voice wavered on the last word.

  Gone.

  Not missing. Not hiding.

  Just... gone.

  Cassian dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply.

  If that was true—if Cassian Starfall was truly dead—then where is his body? Do someone needed his identity to be filled?

  His stomach twisted.

  There was something bigger at play here.

  And if he didn’t start piecing it together soon, he was going to drown in whatever mess the real Cassian had left behind.

  “Alright,” he muttered, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He reached for the pile of files, flipping through them swiftly. “Let’s figure out what your brother was up to.”

  Sky leaned forward, resting his chin on his arms. "You're really going all in on this, huh?"

  Cassian smirked faintly. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

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  Sky giggled softly. "Nope."

  Cassian sighed, shifting his attention back to the records. He needed to dig deeper, needed to understand why the real Cassian had done what he did.

  Because somewhere, buried within these pages—

  Was the reason Cassian had been dragged into this twisted game in the first place.

  Knock knock

  Cassian blinked at the sound of the knock, the soft, polite voice of Vera filtering through the door. "Young master, little master, the food has been served."

  Sky stretched and yawned, climbing out of his seat with the same quiet energy that he always carried. “Okay, Miss Vera, we’ll be there in a minute,” he called back, his voice light as always, though there was an underlying tension in the way he moved, like he was fully aware of the gravity of their situation.

  Sky’s eyes met Cassian’s as he turned to leave, and he whispered under his breath, “Clean this mess, brother… if someone sees it, they’ll start to doubt. I told you my brother was obsessed with keeping his things clean.”

  Cassian glanced around the study, the piles of files scattered across the desk, the open books, the half-finished thoughts sprawled out before him.

  Sky was right.

  If someone—anyone—entered this room now, it would be clear that something was wrong. This wasn’t just a casual study session or a day of reading. This was obsession. Madness.

  Cassian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood there for a moment, looking at the mess, then slowly walked over to the desk. He methodically began stacking the files, closing the books, pushing everything into place with precision.

  Every movement felt wrong.

  He wasn’t Cassian Starfall, the monster behind these actions. He wasn’t the man who had left this trail of destruction and cold calculation. Yet, here he was—filling the shoes of someone who wasn’t just a monster, but a shadow of one.

  The files, the books—they had answers. Answers that Cassian needed. And he couldn’t afford to leave them where they could be found, left behind as evidence of his struggle to understand this twisted legacy.

  "Don't you think it's strange?" Cassian murmured to himself as he pushed the last book into the drawer. "The more I clean up, the more I feel like I'm hiding the truth from myself..."

  Sky's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Are you okay, brother?"

  Cassian paused, his hands still on the drawer. Sky was looking at him, those large, innocent eyes holding a measure of concern that he didn’t know how to respond to. The boy didn’t see the truth yet.

  Sky didn’t see the monster he was becoming.

  "Yeah." Cassian forced a smile, though it felt like the mask was growing heavier. "Just… thinking."

  Sky nodded, completely trusting, and Cassian could feel the weight of that trust settle over his chest. It was a trust that felt fragile—like the strings that held them together were worn thin, ready to snap at any moment.

  The room was tidy now, and Cassian felt strangely empty standing in it.

  "Let’s go," he said, grabbing the last file and slipping it into a drawer that he locked with a key he had found earlier in the desk. He didn’t know if he would need it again, but something in him wanted the security. He had no idea what was coming next, but he had a sinking feeling that the answers he was searching for were still far from reach.

  They left the study, Cassian’s heart heavy with the weight of what he had uncovered and what he still had yet to learn.

  As they made their way to the dining room, the smell of food filled the air—rich, savory scents that seemed out of place in the midst of everything. The mansion felt eerily calm, almost too perfect, like the quiet before a storm.

  When they entered the dining room, Vera was already setting the table, her soft smile never wavering as she placed the last of the dishes down.

  “Good evening, young master, little master,” she said warmly. “I hope the study went well?”

  Cassian merely nodded, offering a small smile in return.

  As they sat down, the tension in the air seemed to thicken, but Vera didn’t notice. She was always pleasant, always so kind and polite. It was strange, how everything around him felt so normal.

  But nothing was normal.

  Not anymore.

  They ate in silence, the only sound the clink of cutlery against plates and the soft murmur of casual conversation from Sky. But Cassian couldn’t stop his mind from racing—every bite he took, every word Sky spoke, felt like a reminder of the role he was now trapped in.

  He had to keep playing the part.

  He had to stay in control.

  Cassian’s thoughts drifted to the files, to the diary entries he had read, and to the strange promise Sky had recalled earlier: "If I don’t make it, you could say that it’s the best thing that’s happened to this planet."

  Had the real Cassian known what was coming for him? Had he planned his own exit?

  Or was there someone—something—behind his disappearance?

  Cassian’s grip tightened on his silverware. He needed answers. And the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that the mansion, the people inside it, and his place in it were all tied together in ways he had yet to comprehend.

  Sky continued chatting happily, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside Cassian. And the worst part? Cassian couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The beginning of something darker than anything he had ever faced.

  And soon, he would have to choose.

  The monster he would become. Or the man he already was.

  But in a world where masks were everything, could he even tell the difference anymore?