June was quiet now.But not at peace.
Lorraine sat across from her, rosary wound tight in her fingers, watching. Studying. Waiting for June's breath to change — for the moment Eleanor surfaced again.
Daniel stood near the kitchen, pale and shaking.He hadn't spoken since the ritual.
Not since June screamed with a voice that wasn't hers.
Not since the doll rose on its own.
June looked up at him suddenly.
Her eyes were glassy. But something behind them flickered.
She stood, barefoot, the hem of her nightgown brushing the floor like smoke. She walked toward him slowly, her voice soft — gentle even.
"Do you remember me now?"
Daniel swallowed. "What…?"
"You used to kiss me before battle," she said. "You promised you'd return."
"You held my face the night you left. Said the ring would be enough."
He backed up.
"June, stop."
But her hands touched his chest — and they weren't June's hands.
They were colder. Heavier. Certain.
"I waited for you," she said, a tear slipping down her cheek."I died waiting."
Lorraine stood, voice sharp. "Eleanor. Let her go."
June didn't even look at her.
"She called me a sin. Said what we had was wrong.Locked me in a doll and buried me with my hunger."
She looked back at Daniel.
And smiled.
"But you still smell like ashes. And I still want to burn with you."
The lights exploded.
The mirror shattered.
And in its reflection, June wasn't standing at all — Eleanor was.
Black dress. Burned skin. A skeletal hand around Daniel's heart.
Daniel stumbled back, gasping — as a bloody scratch carved itself into his chest.
Four letters.
E. L. W.
June collapsed. And the doll tipped over.
But from her lips, one word escaped:
"Husband."