Chapter 5 Rainey

Once my bedroom door closed tightly behind me, the silence of Montgomery Estate became suffocating again.

I sat on the edge of my bed, thinking about Silas's words.

Was it simply medical advice from a doctor, or was he indirectly warning me about something darker?

My thoughts returned to what had happened in the dining room.

The chamomile tea I had deliberately dropped.

Until now, I had no real proof that the tea was poisoned or dangerous.

The note in my diary told me to be careful, but the warning was too vague.

It gave me no specific explanation about what kind of threat was actually after me.

For the first time, I started to doubt myself.

Was my instinct really protecting me, or was this amnesia slowly making me paranoid?

I got up from the bed, walked toward the armchair in the corner of the room, and took the leather-bound diary from its hiding place.

This time, I didn't want to focus only on the last page.

I sat down and began reading the earlier pages more carefully.

The first entries were surprisingly neat and organized, almost like the notes of a professional.

Clearly, my journalistic instincts had been much stronger back then.

I found pieces of my life before the accident, though none of them explained any major conspiracy.

What caught my attention the most was how I described Julian.

On one page, I wrote about him with deep gratitude, calling him the only person who believed in me when no one else did.

But only a few pages later, the tone changed completely.

I accused him of hiding something from me.

That contradiction mattered.

It meant I couldn't treat this diary as the absolute truth.

Then I noticed something even more unsettling.

The closer I got to the final pages, the more my handwriting changed.

It went from neat and organized to messy and rushed.

I started wondering whether that final warning—Julian is not my husband—was written when I was in genuine danger or during an extreme episode of paranoia.

Instead of immediately deciding that Julian was the villain, I made one mental rule for myself that night:

I would only trust evidence, not fear.

That decision became the foundation of everything I did the next morning.

I woke up with the feeling that something was wrong.

My room felt... different.

At first glance, everything seemed normal.

My expensive clothes were still hanging neatly in the closet.

My jewelry had not been touched.

And my diary was still safe in its hiding place.

But my eyes immediately went to the drawer of the vanity.

The night before, I had deliberately left it slightly open.

Now it was completely closed.

I quickly checked the other objects I had intentionally arranged before going to sleep.

The perfume bottle on the table had shifted slightly from its original position.

The angle of the chair near the window had changed.

One of the cabinet doors in the bathroom was also fully closed, even though I clearly remembered leaving it slightly open.

Individually, none of these things proved anything.

But together?

They sent a very clear message.

Someone had entered my room and searched it while I was asleep.

Panic began creeping in, but I quickly pushed it away.

I had to think logically.

The armchair was no longer a safe hiding place.

I took my diary and hid it somewhere new, somewhere much harder to reach.

Instead of confronting the servants, I decided to test the security system of the house.

I took a tiny piece of thread, so thin it was almost invisible, and placed it under my bedroom door.

I positioned it very carefully.

If someone opened the door while I was away or asleep, the thread would move.

And ordinary cleaning staff would never notice it.

Late that morning, Julian came to my room.

As usual, he looked neat, cold, and completely in control.

"Silas will be here soon for your routine medical examination," he said flatly. "And remember, you're not allowed to leave the designated area without an escort."

I looked directly at him.

"Did anyone enter my room last night?" I asked directly.

Julian didn't even blink.

"No unauthorized person entered your room."

His absolute confidence caught my attention.

"How can you be so sure?"

"This property is under twenty-four-hour surveillance. Every entry and exit is recorded in a log," Julian explained calmly.

"If you believe someone entered your room, report it to me instead of investigating it yourself."

His response sounded protective.

But something bothered me.

He never once asked what made me suspect someone had entered.

I decided to push him further.

"Are there cameras inside the bedroom?"

"There are no cameras in private areas, Rainey," Julian answered plainly.

I watched his face carefully, looking for even the smallest sign that he was lying.

Before leaving, Julian paused.

"By the way, our outside security detected some unusual activity around the property line last night."

He gave me no further explanation and walked out.

I assumed he was simply trying to scare me into obeying him.

But the information had already lodged itself in my mind.

Not long after Julian left, Silas arrived with his usual warm smile.

His presence was incredibly calming.

He asked whether I had slept well, and I deliberately said nothing about the possibility that my room had been searched.

"Does Julian always have enemies?"

Silas paused his examination.

"Julian's work makes enemies unavoidable. He operates in a very dangerous environment, Rainey."

"He has spent years protecting people who cannot protect themselves."

His answer revealed another side of Julian, though Silas still refused to explain the truth about my husband's security business.

"What about me?" I asked again, staring sharply at Silas.

"Why would anyone want to kill me?"

Silas's expression changed.

His words became more careful.

"You... may be involved in something much bigger than you understand."

"For now, focus on recovering physically before you try digging into your past cases."

His concern felt sincere.

But I noticed a pattern.

Both Julian and Silas kept telling me to stop investigating.

I didn't argue.

Instead, I threw out another bait.

"Um, okay. I had a strange dream last night," I lied.

"I saw a black car following me right before the accident."

I watched Silas's reaction carefully.

He went silent for a moment.

But that small pause gave him away.

"What... else do you remember from the dream?" he asked.

That detail mattered to him.

Silas reacted as if the black car wasn't merely something I had imagined.

I immediately changed the subject.

"About the accident... have the police found the person responsible?"

"Julian is reviewing all the evidence from the accident. The official conclusion is still unclear, Rainey," Silas answered quickly.

Once again, it was obvious that Silas knew more than he was telling me.

As soon as he left my room, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

I wrote down everything I remembered from my conversations with both of them.

Facts.

Contradictions.

Suspicious behavior.

It was proof that my instincts as a journalist were still alive, even if my memories were not.

That night, I stood near the second-floor window, looking toward the outer edge of the estate.

It was so quiet that I noticed a faint light moving beyond the property line.

At first, I thought it was just a security patrol vehicle.

But the light disappeared behind a group of thick trees, then appeared again in a different position.

I held my breath and watched carefully.

A dark vehicle was parked far outside the main gate.

It wasn't moving.

Ugh.

Someone really was watching this house.

Before I could figure out who they were, the security lights around the property suddenly became much brighter.

From the window, I could see security guards moving quickly across the grounds.

Downstairs, I could barely make out Julian.

He was giving rapid instructions to his guards in the same controlled voice he always used.

To someone else, his behavior might look cool.

But that was exactly what frightened me the most.

He looked prepared.

That was when I finally understood.

The extreme layers of security I'd seen when I first arrived here weren't just Julian being paranoid.

I turned away from the window and walked toward my bedroom door.

My heart was pounding as I crouched down to check the small test I'd set up that morning.

The thin thread beneath my door had moved.

Someone had entered my room again.

Now I had two real problems.

Someone was watching Julian's house from outside.

And someone else could move freely inside it and enter my room.

I stood in the darkness of my bedroom, holding the diary tightly against my chest beneath my clothes.

The question was no longer simply whether Julian was keeping me here against my will.

The truth was that there were people outside who were actively hunting me.

And if that was true...

I had absolutely no idea which side of this locked door was more dangerous.