Haunted by Secrets (Shadowed Souls #3)

Prologue

WYATT

Eleven Years Ago…

Swinging my legs back and forth, the pool water laps against the side of the pool. I lean back, letting the afternoon sun soak into my skin. The manor feels so big and empty, with only the sound of the fountain splashing and the occasional bird in the trees to remind me I’m not completely alone.

My parents have been gone for weeks. Left on some urgent business. As usual, I don’t know the details. It just sucks that it had to happen in the summer break and our trip to Mauritius was canceled.

"Master Wyatt?" A voice calls softly. I barely glance over to see Ms. Dee, one of the maids, standing a few feet away, holding a glass of lemonade. She’s nice enough, although her missing fingers freak me out, but not much of a talker. Just like all the others who work for the Hughes. Silent, obedient, always there but never really here.

I take the lemonade and mumble a thanks. She smiles politely, then walks away, her low heels clicking on the patio tiles. Nothing seems right anymore. The lemonade’s too sweet, and the sun is too bright. I’m sweating in my swim shorts, looking at the empty pool again. It’s big enough for my entire class to fit in, which the many pool parties have proven.

But when it’s only me, the pool is just a huge, lonely void. Sometimes I dive in just to make a splash, just to fill the silence, but today I don’t even feel like that.

I wish they were home. I wish I had something to do, someone to play with.

There’s only so much a ten-year-old can do in a house this big. I’ve already ridden my bike around the driveway more times than I can count, skimmed through the books in the library, and grew tired of playing video games in the theater room. When the end result is tucking myself into bed to stare at the ceiling, everything feels so pointless.

Maybe I’ll call Huxley and see if he’s finished with his photo shoot. Or practice gelling my hair back again. I find I like it that way, pushed back out of my green eyes. Or maybe ? —

The faint sound of a car engine breaks through the stillness. I sit up straight, bending to look through the french double doors. The unmistakable hum of my parents’ Bentley drives into the underground garage. They’re home. Finally.

My heart races as I jump up and dash across the patio, wet feet slapping against the stone. I don’t even bother putting on shoes as I run through the sliding glass doors into the house, the cold marble floors a shock after the sun’s warmth. I skid around the corner and head toward the internal elevator doors, where the staff were already gathering.

The metallic doors glide open, revealing my parents, dressed in their usual perfect way. Mom’s in a sleek dress, sunglasses perched on top of her head, and Dad’s in one of his tailored suits, his smile the same one I see in magazines. I grin, excited to tell them all about my day, even if nothing much happened.

But something’s different this time.

They’re not alone.

Standing just behind them, clutching the handle of a small, filthy backpack, is a girl. She’s my age—around ten, I reckon. She’s thin, her blonde hair pulled back into a slick ponytail, and her big eyes are wide with fear. Her clothes look brand new, a little too big, like they’ve been picked out by a personal shopper. She doesn’t say anything; she just stares at the floor, avoiding eye contact.

I stop in my tracks, confused. I don’t know who she is or why she’s here. My parents don’t usually bring people home. At least, not kids.

“Wyatt,” Dad says, his voice warm and easy, like it always is when he’s about to announce something I’m not going to like. “We’ve got some news.” I glance between them and the girl. I don’t like surprises. Not ones I don’t understand, anyway.

“This is Avery,” Mom says gently, stepping forward and placing a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “She’s going to be staying with us from now on.”

“Staying with us?” I repeat, dumbfounded. I can’t figure out why, out of all the things they could bring home, it’s this quiet, scared girl. I’ve been asking for a puppy for months.

“She’s… well, she’s our daughter now,” Dad adds. As he looks at her, his smile softens in a way that makes my stomach flutter with unease. “We’ve adopted her.”

Adopted? I step back, my guard instantly up. How could they do this? Make such a big decision without me, uncaring of my opinion. Maybe I don’t want to share.

I continue to stare at the girl, Avery, wondering why she doesn’t have a home of her own. What could have happened to pull on my parent’s heartstrings so strongly? Actually, I don’t want to know.

She’s not like anyone I’ve ever seen before. Nothing like the girls in my class, with their perfect ponytails and expensive shoes. She’s nothing like me either. She’s… different.

But then something shifts. Maybe it’s the way she’s gripping that backpack strap so tightly, like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. Or maybe it’s the way her blue eyes flicker up to meet mine for the briefest second, filled with uncertainty and fear. Everything inside of me washes away, cleaning the slate of what I thought I knew.

She looks like she needs someone. And for some reason, an instant protective feeling sets in. I take a step forward, not sure what to say but wanting to say something. Anything.

“Hey,” I manage, my voice quieter than usual. “I’m Wyatt.”

She doesn’t reply right away; she just shifts on her feet, glancing at my parents as if waiting for permission to speak. Mom gives her a reassuring nod, and finally, Avery looks at me again, her lips parting as she whispers, “Hi.”

It’s just one word, but it’s enough. Enough to make me feel like I need to do more. Be more. I’ve never had a sister before. I don’t even know what it means to have one. But looking at her now, standing there so small in this giant house, I decide that I want to try.

“Do you wanna see the pool?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but there’s an edge of excitement in my voice. I want her to feel welcome. To know that this place, my home, can be her home too. She hesitates, glancing back at my parents. Mom smiles and nods again.

Avery takes a deep breath, then nods slowly. She lets Ms. Dee take her backpack and steps toward me, her movements small and careful, like she’s afraid of making a mistake. I lead her through the house, pointing out different rooms and talking a little too fast.

“That’s the living room, but we never really use it. And over there’s the kitchen, where Ms. Delores makes the best pancakes. The pool is this way.” I step out of the open glass doors, the sunlight hitting us hard. The pool sparkles, and I can’t help but grin as I gesture toward it. “Pretty cool, right?”

Avery blinks at the sight, her mouth opening slightly. I can see the wonder in her eyes—the complete awe. It’s refreshing really, giving me a new outlook on the manor that seemed so boring to me just ten minutes ago.

“I-” Avery squeaks, her face going bright red. “I don’t know how to swim.” She shakes her head, trying to hide her blush behind the strands of hair falling free around her face.

“That’s okay,” I say quickly. “I can teach you.” Her big, blue eyes flicker to mine again, and for the first time since she arrived, there’s a tiny spark of something in her expression. Something close to hope, which rocks me.

“Okay,” she whispers. It’s certain now; I have to help her. Show her there’s nothing to be scared of here—that I’ll be her friend. Her brother, actually. It’s got a nice ring to it.

We share a grin as I start to show her how to hold her arms out like she’s swimming, even though we’re both still standing by the pool's edge. She doesn’t say much, but her eyes follow every movement, her tiny hands mimicking mine. So unsure and shy. I can’t explain it, but it’s like the need to protect her is already there, just sitting under my skin.

As I show her how to move her arms, a figure appears at the glass doors behind us. I glance up, thinking it’s Mom coming to check on us, but it’s Dad. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on us. Not in the usual, distant way, like when he's thinking about work or something else, but with an intensity that makes my stomach knot. I can’t remember the last time he looked like that.

Avery stops mimicking my movements, noticing him too. Her shoulders tense, and I can feel her pulling back into herself, like she’s worried she’s done something wrong. The little bit of ease she had a second ago is gone, and that warm feeling I had earlier vanishes with it.

“Wyatt, can you come here for a minute?” His voice is calm, but I know the underlying note of seriousness. It’s how he usually talks to me when I’ve disappointed him. He motions with his head for me to follow him back inside. I look at Avery again, trying to reassure her with a small smile, but she’s already turned her gaze back to the pool, her arms wrapped around herself tightly.

As I step inside, I catch the last glimpse of her, standing there alone by the water, looking smaller than ever. I grit my teeth at the thought of leaving her out there, a tick beating in my jaw. What if something happens while I’m not there? What if she falls in?

Dad leads me to his study, out of earshot from the staff and far away from Avery. He stands there for a second, knocking his knuckles against his desk.

“Wyatt,” he finally starts when I’m starting to fidget. “We need to have a serious talk.” I swallow hard, bracing myself.

“What’s going on?” His pale eyes meet mine, holding a weight in his gaze that I don’t like. Not one bit.

“Avery has been through a lot. A lot more than any child should ever go through. She needs to be our focus now.” Avery. I’d only just learned her name, and already it’s like the air in the room shifts around it, making it feel heavier.

“Okay…” I say slowly, not sure where he’s going with this. I glance toward the window, trying to angle myself to see the patio and failing. “What do you want me to do?”

Dad nods, but his face is still tight, his hands resting on his hips.

“There are some things that Avery’s going to have to deal with in the coming months. We’re going to be spending a lot of time helping her adjust. Protecting her.” The word “protect” lingers in the air like an accusation. I open my mouth, but he continues before I can get the words out .

“She’s fragile,” Dad says, his voice laced with concern. It’s unnerving. He pauses, his eyes locking onto mine. “So, with that being said,” he sighs, “we’ve decided to send you to boarding school in the fall. Full time.”

Boarding school. My chest tightens, the words feeling like I’ve been punched. They’ve mentioned it before, sure, but never like this. Never like a solution to something I didn’t even know was a problem.

“You want me to leave?” I ask, my voice cracking. Dad lowers his head slightly.

“It’s not about wanting you to leave, Wyatt. It’s about making sure Avery has the best environment to heal. That’s our priority. Keeping her safe.”

Something sharp twists in my gut at the way he says it. Keeping her safe. Like somehow I could… what? Hurt her? No words make it out, my silence allowing Dad to keep talking. Keep making it so much worse.

“She’s been through trauma. Real trauma. And right now, she needs stability. She needs calm. She needs…” He trails off, and I can feel it coming, whatever he’s been dancing around this whole time. “She needs your mother and I, without distractions.”

Distractions? My chest tightens as the realization hits me.

“You think I’m a distraction,” I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I look down at my bare feet, the weight of the words settling like bricks in my stomach. Less than an hour ago, I was secure enough to feel endless boredom. Now I’m being kicked out. No, I’m being replaced. “But I don’t want to go,” I snap, the anger bubbling up now, sharp and hot. “I want to stay here. I want to help her.”

“I know you do,” Dad says, his voice calm, but there’s a finality to it. His decision has been made. “But right now, what Avery needs is space. And time. She needs to feel safe.”

I angle myself to look out of the window, spotting where Avery still stands by the pool, her small figure outlined by the sunlight. She looks so alone. So lost. Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe I don’t know how to help her. But that doesn’t make this hurt any less.

“You’re sending me away,” I mutter, the words bitter in my mouth. “For her. She just got here, and you’re choosing her over me.”

“We’re doing what’s best for both of you.” Dad lets out a slow breath, walking closer to rest his hand on my shoulder.

I stare at her, and something inside me begins to twist. It’s subtle at first, like a knot pulling tighter with every breath. Dad’s words echo in my head. I’m the distraction. I’m who she’s not safe with. I’m the thing that needs to be removed because I’m not good enough for their precious, fragile girl.

The warmth I felt when I first saw her, when I thought I could help, starts to curdle. What right do they have to push me aside for her? For someone who barely speaks, who just appeared out of nowhere, hijacking my world like a shadow creeping in? They expect me to leave, to disappear, so they can focus on her. Avery. The girl I’m supposed to feel sorry for. The girl I’m supposed to protect.

But something hardens in my chest, my heart twisting into something cold and unrecognizable. I can’t stop staring at her. The longer I do, the more I realize that the feelings I have aren’t soft or kind anymore. If I can’t be her protector, if I can’t have her attention the way I want it, then I’ll make sure she feels me and sees me in every corner of her world. She won’t be able to forget about me so easily.

That’s the irony of it all. To keep Avery safe, it’s been decided that I’m no longer good enough for the precious life my dad is building around her. No, not my dad anymore. My dad wouldn’t have turned his back on me like this. He’s just Nixon to me now.