Night fell with a suffocating silence. Evelyn sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes staring blankly toward the window, veiled by a thin curtain. The air in the room was cold, but it wasn’t the chill that made her shiver—it was the festering wound inside her, tearing at her sanity.

Her tears fell silently. Not from fear, but from bitter disappointment. The man she once thought was different turned out to be the same as the rest. William, with his gentle demeanor and calm eyes, had proven just as blind to the truth.

"Foolish me," she whispered. "To think someone like him would ever stand up for me."

Footsteps echoed from outside her door. Evelyn quickly wiped her tears. She couldn’t afford to look weak. Not anymore. She had been stepped on long enough.

A soft knock came at the door. Evelyn said nothing.

“Evelyn.” The voice was deep—and familiar.

William.

She hesitated, then rose and opened the door. He stood on the threshold, his expression unreadable.

“I... I’d like to talk for a moment,” he said quietly.

Evelyn nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

They sat down, the air between them thick with unspoken words. William looked at her with an unreadable gaze—part guilt, part confusion.

“I’m sorry about earlier today,” he said at last. “I was too quick to judge.”

Evelyn turned to him, her eyes still swollen. “Too quick to judge? Or did you never truly believe in me to begin with?”

William went silent. Her words cut deeper than he expected.

“I just didn’t want chaos in the house,” he replied defensively.

Evelyn scoffed softly. “And the chaos always comes from me, is that it?”

Again, William said nothing.

“I know who I am in this house,” she continued. “But you should also know who Rosemary really is.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. Instead, he stood up.

“I’ll think about it,” he mumbled. “Get some rest tonight.”

When he left, Evelyn sat back on the bed. This time, no tears fell. Only a blazing determination took their place.

---

Out in the hallway, Rosemary was hiding behind a corner, eavesdropping. Her eyes narrowed with fury.

“So, she’s starting to influence him…” she whispered darkly.

She stormed off toward the basement kitchen. There, a burly man waited in the shadows, dressed in rugged clothes and a cap that hid most of his face.

“We move up the plan,” Rosemary hissed.

“You sure?” the man asked, dragging on his cigarette.

“That woman is becoming a threat. Before she gets any closer to William, we have to remove her.”

The man nodded slowly. “Easy enough. But you know the risks.”

Rosemary smirked. “I don’t care. As long as I become the lady of this house.”

---

The night grew deeper.

Evelyn slept fitfully. But outside her room, danger was already closing in.

Someone slid open the back window quietly. A shadowy figure crept inside, as silent as a ghost. In their hand—a clear bottle filled with gasoline.

They crept toward the guest bedroom where Evelyn slept, dousing a corner of the room with the flammable liquid, careful not to make a sound. Then, a small lighter clicked.

Before the flame could catch, hurried footsteps came from the stairs. William burst in.

“Who are you?!” he shouted.

The intruder froze, then bolted for the window.

William rushed in, the stench of gasoline overwhelming. He ran to Evelyn’s side, shaking her awake.

“Evelyn! Wake up! Someone tried to set your room on fire!”

She jolted up, wide-eyed. “What?!”

Without hesitation, William grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. A corner of the curtain had caught fire, but a servant who had heard the commotion quickly extinguished it.

Minutes later, the police arrived. William immediately demanded a full investigation—but the intruder had vanished without a trace.

From a corner of the house, Rosemary feigned panic. “Oh my God… who could do something like this?”

But Evelyn knew—this wasn’t an accident.

She looked at Rosemary from across the room. And this time, her gaze wasn’t soft.

It was fierce. Ready.