The following night, Belle sat by her window, hugging her knees as the moonlight painted silver shadows across her face. She tried to convince herself that what happened the night before was nothing but her imagination. But deep inside, she knew the truth—she was no longer alone.
Her room carried a silence that felt alive, heavy, watching her. The air grew colder again, and with it, the same pull inside her chest—an invisible thread tying her to something beyond this world.
Then came the voice.
"Belle…"
Her heart skipped. She turned toward the mirror. This time, the mist didn't wait—it spread quickly across the glass, like frost crawling over a window in winter. Within seconds, Thomas's face emerged again, clearer than before.
Belle's throat went dry. "Why me? Why do you keep calling me?"
Thomas's eyes softened, though the pain within them remained.
"Because my story began long before yours… and yet, it ends with you."
Belle's breath caught. "I don't understand…"
For a moment, the mirror shifted. The room around her dissolved into smoke, and suddenly, Belle was standing in another place—an old ballroom lit with hundreds of candles. She saw a man, alive, handsome, dressed in clothes from centuries ago. He laughed, he danced, he lived.
It was Thomas.
Then the scene darkened. The laughter turned to screams. The candles blew out one by one. Belle saw blood, betrayal, and Thomas collapsing to the ground, his face twisted in pain as shadows swallowed him whole.
The vision snapped away. Belle stumbled back into her room, gasping for breath.
Her hands trembled. "What… what did I just see?"
Thomas's voice, heavy with sorrow, echoed through the glass:
"You saw the night I lost everything. The night I lost my life… and was cursed to remain in this house."
Belle pressed her palm to the mirror, her fear melting into aching sympathy. "You've been alone all this time…"
His gaze locked with hers, intense and unbreakable.
"Until you came."
Belle's chest tightened. There was danger in his words, but also something undeniable—something that pulled her closer.
She whispered, almost to herself, "But why me?"
Thomas's lips curved in the faintest, saddest smile.
"Because you are the only one who can hear me. The only one who can feel me. You are the only one my soul has chosen."
Belle shivered, caught in a storm of fear, longing, and questions. The more she learned, the deeper she sank. She wanted to run, to escape the shadows, but her heart wouldn't let her.
As the night deepened, one truth became clear—
She wasn't just tangled in a ghost's curse anymore.
She was tangled in his love.
✨ End of Chapter 6 ✨