Ava couldn't sleep that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, the same image returned—the girl in the road… her pale smile, and the way the air had frozen around her.
Rayen had dropped her off with a promise: "I'll call you if I find anything in the journal pages." But deep down, Ava knew—this was beyond research now.
This was personal.
She stood by her window, watching the streetlights flicker. Then, without thinking, she pulled open her closet and retrieved the old music box she had found in the storage unit.
It hadn't worked before.
But when she twisted the key this time, a haunting lullaby echoed out—slow, melancholic, broken in parts.
Then came the whisper.
> "Come find me, Ava."
She dropped the box.
The sound continued.
From the floor.
From the walls.
From inside her head.
---
Next morning, Ava visited Elira's old college.
She hadn't wanted to go back—too many memories. Too many people who whispered when she walked by.
But she needed answers.
She met with Professor Malloran, the woman who had taught both her and Elira in ancient literature and folklore. The old professor blinked slowly when Ava entered her office.
"I thought you were gone," she said.
"Gone?"
"I mean—" The professor corrected herself. "You look so much like your sister. For a moment, I thought…"
Ava handed her one of Elira's journal pages. "Did she ever mention something called The Veil?"
Professor Malloran grew quiet. Her face lost color.
"She didn't just mention it. She researched it obsessively. Said it was a barrier between the conscious world and something… forgotten."
"Another realm?"
"Maybe. Or maybe something buried within our own world."
She paused, then reached into a locked drawer and pulled out a sealed envelope.
"Elira left this. Said to give it to you, if you ever came looking."
---
Ava opened it later, sitting on the rooftop of a parking garage—the only place she felt alone anymore.
Inside was a photo. Two children, standing beside a large tree.
Her and Elira.
On the back, one sentence was written in Elira's handwriting:
> "It began beneath the hollow sky."
And suddenly, Ava remembered.
The tree.
The sky that day—cloudless, but still… heavy.
They had gone exploring in the woods behind their grandmother's house. And they'd found something.
A circle of stones.
A sigil carved into a tree trunk.
A whisper on the wind that said: "Not yet."
Ava gripped the photo tighter.
What if that moment—the forgotten childhood adventure—was where everything started?
What if the veil didn't find Elira…
…what if they had opened it?
---
She called Rayen and explained.
"We need to go back," she said. "To the woods. The place we found as kids."
Rayen agreed without hesitation. "I'll drive. Bring the photo."
---
That night, they reached the forest.
It had changed—but Ava's memory guided her like a ghost.
They found the tree.
Carved into its bark was the same sigil from Elira's journals.
Rayen touched the symbol. "What is this?"
Ava's breath was shaky. "It's a gate."
And as the wind picked up, the sigil began to glow faintly—blue and gold, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled.
The trees groaned. The air cracked with static.
Then a voice rose from the shadows.
> "She opened the way. Now it cannot be closed."
They turned, flashlights darting.
And in the darkness stood—
Elira.
Not a ghost.
Not a memory.
But real.
Or at least, what looked like her.
She stepped forward, her eyes glowing with something Ava couldn't name.
> "I told you not to follow me."
Ava whispered, "Elira… is it really you?"
Her sister smiled sadly.
"No. But I remember her."
---
To be continued...