Airam and Pandora continued flipping through the book, their fingers tracing the faded black-and-white photographs as if trying to pull secrets from the past. With every page they turned, more faces came into view—faces eerily familiar. Airam’s breath caught as she recognized one after another.
“Look,” Pandora murmured, pointing to a group photo. Airam’s eyes followed her finger, landing on girls who looked strikingly like Irene, Phoebe, Freya, and Iris. Even Pandora’s sharp features seemed mirrored in one of the girls, her honey-blonde hair captured in soft curls. And then, there were the boys—two in particular stood out. One bore Sean’s wiry frame and playful grin, and the other had Jericho’s intense gaze, his strong jawline set in an expression of quiet confidence.
“How is this possible?” Airam asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned closer, her eyes locking on the date scrawled beneath the photo: 1927. Her hand trembled slightly as she pointed to Jericho. “That’s him. That’s Jericho.”
Pandora watched her, her hazel eyes calm but thoughtful. “I’ve known about this for a while,” she admitted, her voice soft.
Airam turned to her, startled. “How long?”
“Before you got here,” Pandora said, shutting the book gently and leaning back in her chair. “I found it while studying for a history test. I thought it was strange—people who looked exactly like us, dressed in those old clothes, appearing in pictures from almost a century ago.”
Airam frowned, her mind racing. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Pandora hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she sighed. “At first, it didn’t make sense. As I went further through the book, I noticed something. The names under the pictures—they’re all different. It’s never ‘Pandora’ or ‘Airam.’ But no matter what, we’re always together. In every single one of them.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Airam felt a shiver run down her spine as she flipped back through the pages, her eyes scanning the old-fashioned names etched under the photographs. Each photo showed the same group—friends, allies, bound by something she couldn’t yet understand.
Pandora leaned forward, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I was confused at first because I’ve never seen you before. Not until you arrived here.”
Airam shifted uneasily in her seat, her nerves evident in the way her fingers gripped the edge of the desk. “What does this have to do with anything that’s happening to us now?” she asked, her voice tinged with irritation.
Pandora, seated across from her, tilted her head thoughtfully. “I don’t know yet,” she admitted, her tone calm but laced with intrigue. “But I think it’s connected to that storm.”
Airam let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. “What happened to you after the storm?”
At that, Pandora’s hazel eyes lit up, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. She leaned forward, her energy shifting from reflective to eager, like she had been waiting for this question. “Let me show you,” she said, almost gleefully.
Her gaze fell on the desk lamp between them. Reaching out, she placed her fingertips delicately on the glowing bulb.
“Hey!” Airam said, alarmed. “Won’t that burn you?” Her voice rose in concern, but Pandora didn’t flinch.
“Relax,” Pandora replied softly, her smile unwavering as her fingers lingered on the warm glass.
Airam’s breath hitched as she watched the bulb’s light begin to dim. The glow faded gradually, as though the lamp itself was surrendering its energy. Then, to her astonishment, faint tendrils of light seemed to flow from the bulb and curl around Pandora’s fingers, shimmering like threads of liquid gold.
“Pandora…” Airam whispered, her voice trailing off as she stared in disbelief.
Pandora finally withdrew her hand, holding her palm up between them. The faintest spark of light danced across her fingertips before vanishing. She met Airam’s wide-eyed gaze with a knowing grin. “That’s what’s been happening to me ever since the storm.”
Airam’s heart pounded as her mind raced. Whatever was happening to them, it was bigger—and stranger—than she had imagined.
