Chapter 9: The Curator's Arrival

Chapter 9: The Curator’s Arrival

Nate Montgomery’s Point of View

Everdawn House stood against the horizon like a relic of a forgotten era. The morning fog curled around its stone walls, giving it an eerie, untouchable presence. As I stepped out of the car, I took a slow breath, letting the damp air fill my lungs.

I had seen many estates like this before—ancient homes with histories buried in their walls, their stories half-forgotten by time. Some found their way to museums, others were left to rot.

But Everdawn House was different.

And that was why I was here.

I adjusted my coat, my fingers brushing over the familiar weight of the documents in my inner pocket. The official reason for my visit was simple: I was a curator with a specialty in historical preservation, invited to assess the property’s worth.

The real reason?

That wasn’t something I intended to share. Not yet.

A Name That Carries Weight

The Montgomery name held power in certain circles, particularly in the world of historical estates and antiquities. My family had built a reputation for acquiring, restoring, and preserving old properties. Some saw us as guardians of the past; others saw us as opportunists.

I didn’t care either way.

I wasn’t here to buy Everdawn House. I was here to understand it.

This estate wasn’t just another forgotten relic—it was a puzzle, a place with a past that refused to stay buried. And Emma Sinclair, whether she realized it or not, had inherited more than just its crumbling walls.

She had inherited its mysteries.

First Impressions

When the grand doors opened, I was met by the woman herself.

Emma Sinclair was striking in an understated way—sharp eyes, posture held with a quiet kind of strength. She didn’t look like someone easily impressed, and judging by the slight furrow in her brow, she wasn’t particularly thrilled to see me.

She was wary.

Good.

She should be.

I had learned long ago that people who owned estates like these were either desperate to hold onto their history or eager to sell it off. I wasn’t sure which one she was yet.

“Nate Montgomery?” she asked, voice cautious.

I nodded, offering a polite smile. “I hope I’m not intruding. I was hoping to speak with you about Everdawn House.”

Her expression didn’t soften. “You didn’t exactly give me any notice.”

“I prefer conversations to be in person,” I admitted. “Especially when they involve places like this.”

Her gaze flickered behind me to my car, as if measuring whether I was worth entertaining. Finally, she stepped back, allowing me inside.

The moment I crossed the threshold, I felt it.

The weight of history. The kind that lingers in the air, in the very bones of a place.

This house had secrets.

And I was going to find them.

The Tension in the Air

I took a slow look around the grand entrance hall, taking in the details—dust settling in the corners, old portraits that hadn’t been moved in decades, the way the light barely touched certain parts of the staircase.

“This place has a presence,” I murmured.

Emma crossed her arms. “Is that a curator’s way of saying it’s falling apart?”

I smiled. “No. It’s a way of saying it’s still alive.”

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she studied me, as if trying to decide what kind of man I was.

Before she could say anything, another voice broke the silence.

“You shouldn’t be here, Montgomery.”

I turned to find him standing at the base of the grand staircase.

Callum.

His expression was carefully blank, but the tension in his stance gave him away.

I lifted an eyebrow. “Still keeping watch, Callum?”

Callum’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trespassing.”

Emma looked between us, confused. “You two know each other?”

I smiled. “Let’s just say Callum and I have… crossed paths before.”

Callum didn’t look amused.

Emma frowned. “And what exactly are you doing here, Mr. Montgomery?”

I turned my attention back to her. “I’m here to discuss Everdawn House.”

“You’re here for more than that,” Callum muttered.

I tilted my head, watching him carefully. “Suspicious as ever, I see.”

Emma’s patience was clearly running thin. “Someone start explaining.”

I exhaled, choosing my next words carefully. “My work involves assessing estates with historical significance. Everdawn House is one of them. I’ve been following its story for some time, and when I heard about your inheritance, I thought it might be time to visit.”

Emma hesitated. “Following its story?”

I nodded. “There’s something about this place, isn’t there? I imagine you’ve felt it. A house this old—it holds more than just memories.”

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. “And what exactly do you think it holds?”

I gave her a small smile. “That’s what I’m here to find out.”

The Weight of the Past

For a moment, silence filled the space between us.

Then, Emma turned to Callum. “And why are you acting like he’s the enemy?”

Callum’s gaze remained fixed on me. “Because he never shows up without a reason.”

I sighed. “You wound me, Callum.”

Emma let out a slow breath. “Look, if you have something to say about Everdawn House, say it. But if this is some kind of personal grudge, I don’t have time for it.”

I studied her for a moment. She really had no idea what she was sitting on, did she?

A part of me almost felt bad for her.

Almost.

I nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll keep it professional. My goal is simple—I want to understand this estate, its history, and what it means for the future. Nothing more.”

Callum scoffed under his breath, but I ignored him.

Emma folded her arms. “And if I say I don’t want your help?”

I met her gaze evenly. “Then I’ll leave. But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say first.”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she seemed to weigh her options, the gears turning in her mind.

Then, finally—“Fine. But if I get the slightest sense that you’re here for the wrong reasons, you’re gone.”

I smiled. “Understood.”

But as I looked at Callum—his fists clenched, his jaw tight—I knew this was far from over.

Because the truth was, I had already found one of Everdawn’s secrets.

And it was standing right in front of me.