The cut on Daniel's chest burned all night.
He didn't remember falling asleep. But when he opened his eyes, the room smelled like ash.
June lay beside him, motionless. Still.Too still.
The doll was at the foot of the bed.
Watching.
Lorraine stood by the door, Bible clutched to her chest.
"He needs to remember," she told Ed, voice tight. "Before she forces it into him."
Ed frowned. "And what if remembering brings her closer?"
Lorraine didn't blink.
"Then at least we'll know what she wants."
That afternoon, Daniel dreamed.
But it didn't feel like a dream.
He was in a field. Soldiers marched past. A crimson sky above.
A girl stood on the porch of a farmhouse, clutching a velvet doll.
Her eyes... Eleanor's eyes.
She smiled at him. The kind of smile you give someone you've already forgiven.
"You said you'd come back."
Daniel — or whoever he was then — reached for her.But a voice screamed behind him.
"They know! They know what she is—run!"
Flames erupted. From the roof. The ground.Screams. A gunshot.
He turned to run back, to save her. But someone held him down. Soldiers. Orders.He watched the farmhouse burn.
And she stood inside it.
Not moving.Holding the doll.Waiting.
Daniel woke up crying.
June sat at the edge of the bed, brushing her hair.
"Did you see it?" she asked softly.
He couldn't speak.
"You were mine," she whispered, turning to face him."And I burned waiting for you."
Daniel looked at her — and for the first time, saw Eleanor fully inside June.
No veil.
No illusion.
Just her.
Smiling.
Waiting.
"This time," she said, voice splitting in two, "you'll burn with me."