"Some memories don’t fade. They ignite."

  ?? Song Suggestion: "The Night We Met" – Lord Huron

  The dreams had started to blur with reality. Harrison could no longer distinguish where the waking world ended and where the past began. Each night, the same images—Ashbourne, burning—pyed in his mind. And each morning, the same unsettling sense of déjà vu followed him into the light of day, as if he was living the same moment over and over again.

  The shop was quiet that morning, pressing down on him like a weight. The shelves seemed more oppressive now, as though the books were watching him, waiting for him to find the answers they promised. He moved between them mechanically, fingers brushing leather spines without registering the titles.

  Something had shifted, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. Was it the weight of the past catching up with him? Or was it the strange sense that he had always known this pce, this moment, this feeling?

  The Mirror and the Echo

  His gaze nded on the mirror behind the counter. The crack had widened, the jagged line stretching down the gss, distorting his reflection. It had been there when he opened the shop. But now it seemed… different. He looked at himself—his eyes heavy, his face drawn. Too many sleepless nights, he thought. It’s just the pressure, nothing more.

  But as he looked closer, his reflection didn’t quite match his movements. For a split second, his image flickered—his reflection moved too quickly, his hand too slow. And then, the echo of a woman in blue, standing just behind him. Her presence was so real, so close. But when he turned around, no one was there.

  Harrison’s heart raced. He rubbed his face, trying to push away the creeping sense of unease, but it was impossible. He wasn’t alone here. He hadn’t been alone for days.

  Across the hall, Emilia was staring at the locked drawer in her apartment again. The iron key in her pocket seemed to weigh more than it ever had before. She had found it weeks ago, buried beneath a stack of old papers, forgotten. The key was a strange thing—ornate, old. Why hadn’t I noticed it sooner? she thought. It feels like it’s always been with me.

  She stood before the drawer, hand on the handle, heart thudding in her chest. Her fingers trembled as she turned the key. The lock clicked open with a sound that was almost too loud, too final.

  Inside the drawer, something shifted in the air—an old letter, yellowed with age, wrapped in a faded ribbon. It had clearly been there for years, untouched, as if it had been waiting for her. She lifted it slowly, her breath catching in her throat as she untied the ribbon and opened it.

  The handwriting was familiar, but unsettling. It was the same looping script that had appeared in The Architecture of Memory book. The same words, the same voice.

  "If you remember me—don’t let them change the ending this time."

  Her hands shook as she read the words again. She could feel the weight of them in her chest. Something deep in her mind stirred, but it was just out of reach, a memory slipping through her fingers. Who had written this? And why had it been left for her to find?

  The letter slipped from her hands, falling softly to the floor. She knelt down, picking it up and rereading the words. The mention of the ending—it felt like a warning, but what could it mean? Had they failed before?

  Before she could make sense of it, a knock at the door echoed through the quiet apartment. Harrison.

  The Shared Truth

  Emilia opened the door to find Harrison standing there, his face pale and drawn, eyes wide with an intensity she hadn’t seen before. There was something in him that mirrored the same unease she felt. It was as though both of them were standing on the edge of something—something they couldn’t see, but knew was coming.

  “I need to show you something,” Harrison said, his voice low. “I found something… something in the shop. A letter. From the past.”

  Emilia’s heart skipped. She stepped aside, letting him in.

  “I found the same letter,” she said softly, holding it up for him to see. “But the handwriting—it’s the same. It’s like we’re both being pulled toward this... toward Ashbourne.”

  Harrison nodded, his eyes darkening with the weight of his thoughts. “I’ve been having the same dreams,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to expin it, but it’s like I’ve been here before. We’ve been here before. This... pce—it’s all connected.”

  Emilia held his gaze, her breath shallow. She could feel the same pull, the same magnetism between them. There was no denying it anymore. The past had returned. The truth was waiting for them.

  The Decision to Confront Ashbourne

  “We need to go to Ashbourne,” Harrison said, his voice firm, but with a note of fear beneath it. “We have to see it for ourselves. There’s no other way. We have to confront it.”

  She hesitated for a moment, the weight of his words settling around her. Ashbourne. The pce in her dreams, in his, the pce that had been lost to time, buried in the ashes of something long gone. But something inside her stirred. She wasn’t afraid anymore.

  “I’ll go with you,” she said, her voice steady now. “We’ll uncover it together.”

  That night, after they had decided on their pn, Harrison couldn’t sleep. He y in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind spinning with questions he didn’t have answers to. How could he expin the dreams, the visions, the sense that they were being guided to something—or someone—that had long since disappeared?

  The mirror in his room caught his attention again. The crack had widened even more, the jagged line splitting his reflection into two. For a moment, he thought he saw her again—her figure in blue, standing just behind him. Her hand reached out toward him, and the air around him grew thick with the scent of smoke.

  But when he turned, no one was there.

  His breath quickened, and he sat up in bed, his heart pounding. The fire—the woman—Emilia. She was the key. She had to be.

  He didn’t know how or why, but he was certain of one thing: They were both connected to Ashbourne. And whatever happened there, whatever they were meant to find, would change everything.

  ?? Read Next: Chapter 5: "The Pact to Find the Truth" - The locket should be nothing but ashes. But it’s here. Untouched. Waiting. Emilia’s fingers tremble. “This means…” she exhales, but she can’t finish the sentence.