Page 62 of Vows of Silence

One line in particular had stayed with me all day.

When you cannot control the cage, learn the creature keeping you inside it.

I stared down at the sentence again, lightly chewing the inside of my cheek as my thoughts spiralled.

“Is that what you’re doing?” I murmured quietly into the empty room. “Teaching me?”

The cameras watched silently from the corners, their tiny blinking lights suddenly feeling far more significant than they had before.

For the first time since being dragged into this basement, my brain felt awake again. Not trapped beneath panic or grief or fear, but searching. Thinking. Pulling at threads.

And the more I thought about it, the more certain things began shifting into place inside my mind.

Luca had never simply handed me answers either. Not once. Whenever I asked him something important, he redirected me instead. Guided me towards conclusions without ever fully explaining them himself. Even in my father’s office, he hadn’t outright told me where the hidden room was. He had nudged me in the right direction and waited for me to work it out on my own.

Just like this.

My eyes slowly lifted towards the bookshelf again, my father’s office forming behind my eyes with startling clarity.

“You’re showing me something, I know it,” I muttered out loud. My hand crept to the choker on my throat. “You give me gifts. But this has been the first luxurious present. You gave me books first…”

The books.

Observe.

Learn.

Look deeper.

My pulse began to quicken as I slid off the bed and crossed the room properly this time. I crouched in front of the shelves, running my fingers slowly along the spines, paying attention to details instead of simply titles. Some looked pristine, untouched entirely, whilst others were visibly worn from repeated reading.

One in particular caught my attention almost immediately. It sat slightly uneven compared to the others, protruding only the smallest amount from the shelf.

A disbelieving laugh almost escaped me.

“No way. No fucking way.”

Slowly, cautiously, I pulled the book forward.

Nothing happened.

I sat back slightly with a quiet breath, shaking my head at myself. “Okay, Isabelle. You’ve officially lost your mind.”

And yet the uneasy feeling remained.

My gaze narrowed on the shelf again as I shifted closer. The wood behind that particular book looked newer somehow, cleaner than the surrounding area. Less dust gathered there.

My fingers moved lower, tracing lightly along the underside of the shelf instead.

Then stopped.

There.

The tiniest indentation pressed into the wood, barely noticeable unless someone was actively searching for imperfections.

My heartbeat kicked harder against my ribs as I stared at it.

Silas wanted me to observe.