Lena didn't sleep for the rest of the night. She sat upright against the headboard, the blankets wrapped tightly around her like a cocoon. Her phone had no signal. The landline in the hall was dead. And the power—well, she wasn't even sure this place had electricity. But one thing she was sure of:
She had seen a ghost.
By dawn, the fear had turned into curiosity. She wasn't crazy. She wasn't dreaming. That man—no, that spirit—had looked at her like he knew her. Not just recognized her, but knew her.
His expression hadn't been frightening. It had been... tragic.
She spent the morning exploring the house. The kitchen had old, dusty pots and pans, and a rusted stove that clearly hadn't been used in decades. In the back pantry, she found a few unopened cans of food. Amazingly, a battery-powered radio still worked.
There were three floors in the house: the main floor, the upper living quarters, and the attic. Lena hadn't dared go up to the attic yet. Something about it felt wrong.
Instead, she focused on the second floor, searching for clues—anything that could explain the ghostly figure she saw.
In a small study filled with cobwebs and books, she found a locked drawer. She used a bobby pin to pry it open. Inside was a bundle of letters, aged yellow and tied with red string. The handwriting was cursive and elegant.
> My dearest Eleanor,
I don't know when we will be together again. The war has taken me far from you, but your voice still echoes in every breath I take. I promise, when this is over, I'll return to Hollow Pines. We'll be together. Forever.
—Julian
The date: August 3, 1917.
Lena's heart skipped. Julian... Was that him? The ghost?
She read every letter in the bundle. All from Julian. All to Eleanor—her grandmother.
But it didn't make sense. If this was her grandmother's lover... why had her mother never mentioned him?
She spent the next few hours cleaning up the bedroom, then returned to the letters. The more she read, the more real Julian felt. He wasn't some blurry spirit. He was a man who had loved deeply, passionately—and maybe died before he could come home.
That evening, Lena lit candles all around the room. She wasn't afraid anymore.
She wanted to see him again.
"Julian," she whispered into the dim room. "If you're still here... come back. Please."
The flame of the candle flickered. The air grew cold.
Then... he appeared.
This time, he didn't stand at the foot of the bed. He stood by the window, looking out at the pine forest. He was dressed in the same dark coat. His presence shimmered faintly, like mist illuminated by moonlight.
"Julian?" she said.
He turned slowly. His eyes met hers. There was surprise in his gaze—like he hadn't expected her to say his name.
"You know me?" His voice was soft, deeper than she imagined. Ethereal.
"I found your letters. You loved Eleanor—my grandmother."
A pause. He stepped closer, the air chilling with every movement.
"I did," he said. "More than life itself."
"Then... why are you here?"
He looked away. "Because I never made it back. I died with her name on my lips. And now I'm trapped. Bound to this house... to the promise I couldn't keep."
Lena's throat tightened. The sorrow in his voice was like a song played in a key of mourning.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He reached out, but his hand hovered inches from her skin. "You look like her," he said. "But... different."
"I'm her granddaughter."
"I know," he said, voice barely a breath. "I've been waiting a long time. But not for Eleanor."
Lena's heart skipped. "For who, then?"
"You," he whispered.
The candle behind her extinguished.
Darkness.
Silence.
Julian faded once more.
---
Author's Thought:
This chapter deepens the mystery of Julian's past and his ghostly bond to Lena. I wanted you, the reader, to feel the strange but beautiful connection forming between them—how love can stretch across time, beyond death. What do you think Julian means when he says he's been waiting for Lena, not Eleanor? Destiny? Reincarnation? A hidden secret? The truth will unravel slowly—but I promise, it'll be worth the wait.