Warren Residence — Containment Room Seven
The mirrors had been covered. The lights dimmed.Lorraine placed June in the center of the circle — surrounded by salt, bone-dust, and prayers no one had said aloud in fifty years.
Daniel stood behind glass, trembling.
June's wrists were bound in red thread. Her lips stitched with silence spells.
"You're not here to hurt her," Lorraine whispered. "You're here to be heard."
The air in the room curled inward. Tight. Heavy.
June's body spasmed. Then went still.
When she looked up, Eleanor was in her place.
"You think this is possession," she said, voice echoing. "It's not."
"This is inheritance."
Lorraine knelt down, locking eyes with her.
"Why June? Why her?"
The mirrors began to vibrate.
One cracked.
Eleanor — still inside June — smiled.
"Because she found me.Because she kept me close.Because when I spoke, she didn't scream — she listened."
Daniel pounded the glass. "Take me instead!"
June turned her head — slowly — and whispered,
"I was never yours to begin with."
Lorraine's voice cracked. "You don't love him. You never did."
Eleanor's smile faded.
She looked up, and the air dropped ten degrees.
"I loved her.I waited for her.And now… I'm finally back inside her."
The fire was never about revenge.The haunting never about Daniel.
Eleanor had waited to find herself again.
In June.
The lights shattered.
The mirrors broke — but didn't fall.
They reflected something else:A woman, standing in flames, holding a girl's face with tenderness. And then—
They kissed.
June's real scream echoed inside Lorraine's head like glass cracking.
"Help me. Please. I don't want to disappear."
Lorraine raised the blessed dagger.
But she wasn't sure who she'd be killing.
June…
Or Eleanor.