"You don’t dream the same nightmare as someone else by accident."

  ?? Song Suggestion: "Runaway" – AURORA

  The rain had returned by the time Harrison and Emilia set their pn in motion. The sky was heavy, the clouds thick with the weight of something unsaid. Neither of them had spoken much in the hours since they decided to go to Ashbourne—words felt too insignificant for the magnitude of what they were about to face. The pull was undeniable. The past was calling to them, its voice growing louder with each passing moment. It felt as if they were standing on the precipice of something they couldn’t understand, but knew they couldn’t walk away from.

  Emilia sat in the passenger seat of Harrison’s car, her hands clenched tightly in her p. The map was spread out before them, and she traced the worn edges with her fingers, her mind spinning. Ashbourne had always felt like a pce in her dreams, somewhere she had visited and lost, somewhere buried beneath yers of time. But now, it was real. They were going there.

  She turned to Harrison, her voice a whisper. “Do you think we’ll find the answers there? Or is it just another part of the dream?”

  Harrison’s eyes were focused on the road ahead, but she could see the tension in his jaw. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But we need to know. We need to understand why we keep dreaming of it, why we keep being drawn back.”

  The air between them thickened, and she could feel the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. He was right. There was no turning back now.

  They drove in silence for the rest of the journey, the rain tapping softly against the windshield, the steady rhythm matching the beat of her heart. The closer they got to Ashbourne, the more unsettled she became. She could feel the pull growing stronger, like a magnetic force drawing her toward the heart of the mystery.

  AshbourneWhen they arrived at the gates of Ashbourne, neither of them spoke. The estate stood before them, dark and imposing, the iron gates twisted and worn with age. The tall stone walls were overtaken by ivy, and the windows, once grand and full of light, were now hollow, darkened by time and decay. The air around them felt dense, thick with history, with secrets that had been buried for far too long.

  Harrison stepped out of the car first, his gaze fixed on the estate as if it were both familiar and foreign. The wind carried the scent of smoke, and for a moment, he thought he could hear faint voices in the distance, echoes of something long gone. The feeling was too real, too intense to ignore.

  Emilia joined him, her breath catching in her throat as she stepped toward the gates. It was the same feeling she had experienced in her dreams—the sense of walking into a pce she had once known, a pce that had shaped her in ways she couldn’t yet understand.

  “Do you feel it?” she asked, her voice soft but full of wonder.

  Harrison nodded. “It’s like the walls are alive, like they’re waiting for us.”

  The air was thick with an unseen presence, as if the estate itself were watching them, waiting for them to make their move. Every step they took felt like a step closer to the truth, and yet, the truth seemed just out of reach.

  They approached the entrance, and Harrison’s hand hovered over the rusted gate, as if he were afraid to touch it. It was as though this moment had been etched into his memory, and touching the gate would seal their fate. With a steady breath, he pushed it open, the creaking sound echoing through the quiet air.

  As they crossed the threshold, the temperature dropped. The air felt colder, heavier, as if something had shifted in the atmosphere. Emilia shivered, her skin prickling with a strange, electric charge. She gnced at Harrison, but his face was unreadable, his eyes fixed ahead, as if he were seeing something she couldn’t.

  They walked deeper into the grounds, their footsteps muffled by the overgrown grass, until they reached the front steps of the house. The door was ajar, a faint light glowing from within.

  “I don’t know what we’re going to find in there,” Harrison said, his voice low, filled with uncertainty.

  Emilia nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. “Neither do I. But we have to find out.”

  They stepped inside, the door creaking behind them as it slowly closed. The light from the hallway illuminated the dust-covered furniture, the grand staircase leading upward into shadows. The air smelled of mildew, of decay, of something that had been left untouched for too long.

  But beneath the dust and decay, there was something else—something familiar. The faintest trace of a memory.

  They moved through the house slowly, their footsteps echoing in the empty rooms. Each one seemed to pull them deeper into the heart of the estate, each room a reflection of the past, of the life they had lived here once. But the further they went, the more disorienting it became. The yout of the house didn’t make sense, and yet it felt like they had walked through these halls countless times before.

  As they reached the grand hall at the center of the house, a soft whisper seemed to curl around them, emanating from the walls themselves. It was faint, barely audible, but it was there—a name.

  “Kessler.”

  Harrison froze. The voice had called his name, but it wasn’t just his name. It was a voice he recognized, though he couldn’t say why.

  Emilia reached for his hand, her fingers cold against his skin. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

  He nodded, his throat tight. “I heard it. But—who is that?”

  “I think we’re meant to find out.”

  They continued forward, drawn to the center of the hall, where a rge portrait hung. The woman in the painting was familiar—her face hauntingly beautiful, her eyes full of sorrow. But it wasn’t just the woman who caught their attention.

  It was the name beneath the portrait—Emilia Lemaire.

  ?? Read Next: Chapter 6 — Where It Begins Again

  They thought the letter was the mystery.But the real secret lies in what they can’t remember— And what someone else doesn’t want them to find.