First thing Mara notices is the ticking.
Her father's old mantel clock—silent for years—begins to tick again at 3:10 a.m.By 3:11, every clock in the house joins in. Digital displays flicker. Analog hands jump backward. The alarm on her phone resets in her hand.
3:113:113:11
The numbers freeze.
Then the knocking begins.
It starts in the living room wall—three slow knocks, spaced evenly apart. Then behind her bedroom. Then beneath the floorboards.
A voice follows. Soft. Measured. Almost familiar.
"Mara…?"
She freezes.
The voice inside the wall whispers again—this time in her father's voice.
"You came back. Good. I need you to listen."
Her breath catches.
"You have to leave the town before—"The voice stops. Silence swells.
Then, from inside the same wall, a second voice speaks. Her own.
"Mara… don't be afraid. We've been waiting for you."
Everything in the house resets.Everything but the knocking.
