The door shouldn't have been open.

Elena pressed herself against the cold brick wall, her breath misting in the winter air. Through the narrow gap, she could see the glow of candlelight flickering across worn hardwood floors. The apartment had been empty for three years—ever since the woman who'd lived there simply vanished.

This is stupid, she thought. Go home. Call the police.

But the melody drifting through the doorway stopped her cold. A piano piece she knew by heart because it had been her grandmother's favorite. The same grandmother who'd disappeared from this very apartment.

Elena pushed the door wider.

The apartment was exactly as she remembered—the faded Persian rug, the overstuffed armchair by the window, even the smell of lavender and old books. But the piano bench was occupied by a figure in a dark coat, fingers dancing across keys that produced no sound.

The piano had been sold at estate auction two years ago.

"You shouldn't be here," the figure said without turning. A woman's voice, rich and familiar in a way that made Elena's chest tighten.

"Neither should you." Elena stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind her. "That piano's been gone for—"

The woman's hands stilled. When she turned, Elena's heart stopped.

It wasn't possible. But those eyes—gray as storm clouds, the same slight asymmetry in the smile.

"Hello, darling," her grandmother said. "We need to talk about your inheritance."

She gestured to a wooden box on the table. It pulsed with a faint blue light that seemed to come from within the grain itself.

"What I left you isn't money."

#fiction #serialfiction #mystery #fantasy