Chapter 3

After a week at the Knight residence, I'd conclude: pretending to be deaf was the ultimate eavesdropping hack.

Since everyone thought I couldn't hear, they talked without a second thought.

Hayes would put his calls on speaker, his men would gossip right in front of me, and even Vincent would sometimes mutter to himself while I was nearby.

I was like a surveillance camera planted right in the middle of them, except they all thought I was turned off.

But what I never saw coming was that Vincent was way more of a handful than I'd ever imagined.

*****

On the eighth morning, I went to the dining room for breakfast as usual.

Just as I was about to pick up my fork, a hand reached over my shoulder and set a bottle of milk in front of me.

I looked up. Vincent was suddenly standing behind me.

He was wearing a dark gray shirt today, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, showing off his lean wrists.

He leaned down, his lips almost brushing my ear. "Today's milk is sweet."

His voice was low, his breath brushing against my ear.

My heart skipped a beat. It wasn't what he said. It was how close he was.

He was so close I could smell the fresh pine on him. When he spoke, his breath lightly tickled my earlobe.

But I couldn't react. I was supposed to be deaf. Deaf people didn't blush or freak out just because some guy got all up in their space.

I picked up the milk and took a sip, keeping my face totally blank.

I kept repeating to myself: I was solid as iron, unshakable as a rock, like that stone lion in the Knight family garden that hasn't budged in eight years.

Vincent watched me from the side as I drank the milk, a faint smile playing at his lips. Then he stood up and went back to his seat.

Hayes stood nearby, his expression complicated as he lowered his voice. He asked, "Mr. Knight, are you testing her?"

Vincent flipped open his newspaper. "Yeah."

"And?"

"No reaction," Vincent said, pausing for a second. "Interesting."

I kept my head down, sipping my milk. What was so interesting about that? Vincent, could you back off already?

After that little test, it was like he suddenly developed some bizarre urge to win.

In the days that followed, he started pulling all kinds of "tests" on me.

The second test happened one evening while I was reading in the living room. He walked over and suddenly slammed a file down on the coffee table next to me, making a loud bang.

Any normal person would've jumped. But I didn't even flinch.

I'd already seen him coming out of the corner of my eye, and I was mentally prepared for it a second before he slammed the file down.

I turned the page of my book at a leisurely pace.

He stared at me for five seconds, then picked up the file and walked away.

Luna: 1 point; Vincent: 0.

The third test happened while I was watering the flowers in the yard. He crept up behind me and suddenly called out, "Hey, deafie!"

His voice hit that sweet spot, just loud enough that anyone else would've turned around.

But I didn't budge. I kept watering the flowers, my hand steady as a surgeon's.

He came around to face me, bending down to look straight into my eyes.

I stared right back at him, my expression totally blank.

His eyes caught the vacant look on my face.

He stared at me for three seconds, then suddenly grinned. "Looks like you really are deaf," he said, turning away.

I watched his back as he walked off, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

If he kept pulling these stunts, I was gonna die of a heart attack before I ever got exposed.

But the fourth test was the one that almost made me slip up.

It was around eleven that night. I was already in bed, lights off, ready to sleep.

Out of nowhere, the door swung open, and Vincent walked in.

I kept my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

His footsteps were barely audible as he came over to the bed. Then he sat down at the edge of my bed.

I could feel the mattress dip under his weight. His breathing was so clear in the darkness.

After about ten seconds of silence, he suddenly spoke, "Luna." His voice was low, almost like he was talking to himself.

My heart clenched.

He didn't call me "Rachel." He said "Luna." My real name. Wait, how did he know?

"How do you plan to pay back what your sister owes me?" His voice was sharp in the darkness, with a hint of a smile I couldn't read. "Hey, deafie."

With that, he stood up and left. The door closed softly behind him.

I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. My mind was blown.

He knew I wasn't Rachel. He'd known all along.

So, why didn't he call me out? Why kept me there? Why kept messing with me, trying to figure out if I was actually deaf?

I pulled the blanket over my head, curling up into a ball.

I was so screwed. This guy was playing cat and mouse, and I was the mouse. He had already got his eyes on me, but I had no idea where the trap was hiding.

*****

I barely slept a wink that night.

The next morning, I dragged myself downstairs for breakfast, dark circles under my eyes, my brain still replaying Vincent calling me "Luna" last night.

He knew exactly who I was, but didn't call me out. What was his game?

Maybe he was waiting for my sister to walk right in, using me as bait.

Or maybe he thought it was fun, toying with this "deaf girl" to kill his boredom.

Or maybe he was waiting for me to slip up, so he would finally have a legitimate excuse to call me out.

I didn't dare think any further. But no matter what his game was, there was only one thing I could do: keep up the act. I should keep pretending until he started to doubt his own ears.

At breakfast, Vincent sat at the head of the table as usual, flipping through his newspaper and sipping his black coffee.

He shot me a look. I kept my face blank. He looked away.

Everything seemed normal, like nothing had happened last night.

I almost thought I'd dreamed it all. But what happened next made it clear. This was no dream.