chapter five

Whispers from the Other Side

Evelyn couldn’t sleep that night.

Not after the mirror cracked. Not after the runes glowed, the light kissing the chamber walls like silent warnings. The memory of her possible reflection — her mother or something else — haunted her. Her house no longer felt like a house. It was becoming a living entity, watching, remembering, whispering.

She sat cross-legged on her bed, the journal open before her, a candle flickering nearby. Her fingertips traced the next passage:

“The Veil is not a wall. It’s a door. But not all doors are meant to be opened from both sides.”

Evelyn’s pulse quickened.

She was starting to realize something horrifying — the more her powers awakened, the thinner the Veil seemed to become. What if her very presence here, in this house, was weakening the barrier?

A sudden gust blew through the room, snuffing out the candle.

Evelyn froze.

She heard the creak of floorboards. Slow. Deliberate.

Her eyes scanned the darkness. “Dad?” she called, though she already knew it wasn’t him.

No answer.

Her fingers found the flashlight under her pillow. She clicked it on, sweeping the beam across the room. Nothing.

Until her closet door creaked open.

Evelyn rose slowly, heart pounding. The mark on her arm burned hot under her sleeve.

“Who’s there?” she asked, voice steady despite the terror rising in her throat.

A whisper answered. Not a voice. A presence.

Her hand trembled as she approached the closet. Inside, it was empty—except for a slip of parchment lying at her feet. Yellowed and brittle, it looked ancient.

She picked it up.

The writing was unfamiliar, jagged and hurried:

“They’re watching you now. The Veil has thinned. You are the key.”

Evelyn dropped the note like it had bitten her. The flashlight flickered—once, twice—then died.

Darkness swallowed the room.

She didn’t scream. She couldn’t.

Instead, she whispered the one name she instinctively reached for.

“Liam…”

Liam arrived minutes later, hair tousled, eyes alert. She hadn’t told him everything over the phone — only that something was wrong, and that she needed him.

They sat together on her bed, the journal and parchment between them, the candle now relit and casting golden shadows across their faces.

Liam read the message slowly, frowning. “You’re the key,” he murmured. “It confirms what I suspected.”

Evelyn looked at him. “Which is?”

He met her eyes. “You weren’t just born with power. You were born for a purpose. There’s something coming, Eve. Something that needs the Veil open. And you’re the only one who can do it — or stop it.”

A lump formed in her throat. “I don’t want to be anyone’s key. I didn’t choose this.”

He reached over, gently taking her hand. “I know. But you’re not alone in this.”

Their fingers lingered, the warmth between them cutting through the surrounding cold. Slowly, she leaned into his shoulder, and for a moment, she allowed herself to feel safe.

But it didn’t last.

The walls groaned again, and a low hum began to build — not sound, exactly, but vibration. Something beneath the house was stirring.

Liam looked toward the hallway. “We need to go back to the chamber.”

Evelyn nodded.

They descended the narrow stairs again, flashlight in hand, their steps echoing louder than before.

The chamber looked unchanged — yet not. The mirror’s fracture had spread, webbing across its surface like frost. The runes glowed brighter, casting a pale blue light that danced along the walls.

And in the center, before the mirror, stood a girl.

Evelyn’s breath caught.

The girl was translucent. Glowing faintly. Young — no older than Evelyn — with long black hair and eyes like moonlight.

She turned slowly, her voice a whisper that echoed in the stone.

“You found the room.”

Evelyn stepped forward. “Who are you?”

The girl tilted her head. “I was once like you. Touched by the Veil. Marked.”

“Are you... dead?” Liam asked cautiously.

“Not quite,” she said. “I am trapped. Between.”

Evelyn felt her heartbeat in her throat. “Trapped in the mirror?”

The girl nodded. “The Veil is thinning. Spirits like me slip through cracks. But something darker follows. The one who shattered the balance... wants out.”

“Who?” Evelyn asked.

The spirit turned to the mirror, the cracks pulsing behind her. “She waits. In the other side of this house. In the place where time doesn’t move.”

Evelyn’s mark burned again.

“The one who waits…” she whispered.

Liam touched her shoulder. “You don’t have to face this alone.”

The spirit girl began to flicker. “You must choose,” she said. “To open the Veil… or to seal it. But either path requires a sacrifice.”

The mirror cracked further. A low growl began to rise from its depths — no longer spirit, but beast.

The girl screamed, “She’s coming—!”

And then the mirror shattered.

Shards flew outward in slow motion. The flashlight blew out. The rune-light died.

Evelyn fell back into Liam’s arms as the chamber was swallowed in a rushing wind and a deep, guttural cry — not human, not of this world.

In the echoing dark, something crawled out from behind the broken glass.