Page 91 of Salem’s Rise

“What do you know about Salem’s Fall history and the missing Fourth House?”

“Just what we learned in class and a few things Professor Endicott told Rowan and me.” I shrug. “But she was half crazy, so I’m not sure what to believe.”

Silas walks to the desk but doesn’t sit. Instead, he braces both hands against its edge, his head lowering for a moment as though steadying himself before speaking.

“The Veil wasn’t always ruled by three houses,” he says. “In the beginning, there were four founding families of Salem’s Fall. Four bloodlines that created the Veil during the witch trials. Blackhollow. Ashcroft. Hawthorne.” A beat passes and he meets my eyes. “And Mercer.”

Silas’s bedroom seems to empty of air as his revelation hangs between us.

Mercer.

The missing Fourth House.

My family.

“No. That doesn’t…” I shake my head, stumbling on my words. “That doesn’t make any sense. My family isn’t even from Salem’s Fall.”

“The Mercers deliberately kept their name out of the histories of Salem’s Fall and the Veil,” Silas says. “They were the Veil’s conscience—the only House meant to stand apart from the others and hold them accountable. Even within the Veil, their identity was closely guarded. Over the centuries, their name disappeared from all but the oldest records.” He pauses, his gaze settling on me. “Your father was Nathaniel Mercer—head of the Fourth House.”

The way he says it leaves no room for denial.

“Your parents attended Salem’s Fall University with my uncle,” he continues, drawing a slow breath. “They were close. Lucien thought of your father like a brother.”

“And my mother?”

“He loved her too. Not romantically, of course,” he adds when my expression changes to confusion. “They were both family to him.”

I think of Lucien’s face when he spoke of my parents. It’s obvious he cared for them.

“There was a faction within the Veil that didn’t like the way things were being run,” Silas explains. “Van’s parents and a few others were part of it. They plotted in secret. They believed the Fourth House had too much influence.” Cold spreads through me at his words, creeping outward until every inch of my skin feels chilled. “They targeted your family. Your father was murdered.”

“No.” I shake my head, my mind refusing to accept what he’s saying. “My father died in a car accident. They said the roads were icy.”

Silas holds my gaze.

“That’s the lie you were told to keep you safe,” he says. “The faction moved against the entire Fourth House. Mercer property, accounts—anything connected to the House—was seized. Your mother took you and Josh and disappeared before they could finish what they started.”

My stomach twists as the possibility begins to sink in. There was a whole other life Josh and I might have had but never knew existed.

“The same faction targeted my family too,” Silas continues, his fingers curling into his palm. “They tried to kill my mother. My father and Lucien retaliated. They spent years hunting down those responsible.”

“But my mom…” I stammer. “Why didn’t she ever tell us? About our dad? About who we are?”

“Lucien believes she buried it over time. That her mind just… couldn’t hold on to that kind of horror.” His voice turns quieter. “And perhaps, in the beginning, she thought ignorance was safer. That faction was destroyed, but there will always be people in the Veil who prefer the Fourth House to stay gone.”

A memory surfaces, and suddenly another piece falls into place. Silas and Van on the bridge. The warning Silas gave him.

“On the bridge, when you told Van that Lucien sparing him might’ve been a mistake,” I say. “Is this what you were talking about?”

“Lucien executed Van’s parents and the others for their crimes against the Veil.” He falls silent for a moment. “Lucien never truly recovered. They murdered his best friend… and other people he loved.”

The revelation of my family hits me like a physical blow. Heat floods my chest, quickly hardening into anger. Silas had watched me stumble blindly through this town while he’d kept the truth to himself.

“All this time, you’ve known? About the Fourth House? About me?” I pin him with a furious look. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have been ready to hear it back then?” His gaze holds mine, the question almost a challenge.

I open my mouth to argue, then stop. Frustratingly, I realize he has a point.