He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 145

"I'll have the staff pack it for you."

"No need," Sienna rejected him instantly.

She turned around and headed straight toward a dark corner of the house.

Grant frowned. The guest rooms weren't in that direction. He couldn't help but correct her.

"You're going the wrong way."

But Sienna didn't stop walking.

"I know exactly where I'm going."

Her voice drifted back from the end of the shadowy corridor, echoing slightly in the empty space.

Grant's stomach dropped. An indescribable panic suddenly gripped his heart.

Abandoning Lyla without a second glance, he took off after her.

Sensing something was seriously wrong, Lucas immediately followed suit.

The basement was entirely deprived of sunlight, the air thick with the musty stench of mold and heavy dust.

Sienna pushed open a badly chipped wooden door.

The dim fluorescent lightbulb overhead flickered twice before weakly illuminating the cramped space.

Grant stood in the doorway, going completely rigid.

It was a room barely a hundred square feet, holding only a single rickety bed and a battered wardrobe.

Half the paint had peeled off the walls, and dark clusters of water-damaged mold bloomed menacingly in the corners.

Lucas stepped in right behind him.

Once he registered the appalling state of the room, his pupils constricted sharply, and he asked, completely incredulous.

"You used to live down here?"

Sienna gave a faint "Yeah."

Hearing that confirmation, Lucas froze solid.

He had seen Sienna shining brilliantly at Art Basel, and he had seen her effortlessly exuding talent and grace in her studio.

He couldn't even begin to fathom that a generational artist like her had been forced to live in a basement that was unfit for even a servant.

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