The night was heavy with rain, each drop striking the earth like a cruel reminder of Ethan's solitude. He stood in the deluge, arms outstretched, letting the rain wash over him as if seeking redemption. His face turned upwards, eyes closed, he whispered Clara’s name, hoping the rain would carry his grief to the heavens.
It had been a year since Clara had died. Her death was a mystery, leaving behind only whispers and shadows. Ethan moved to the small village of Hollowbrook to escape the haunting memories, but the village had secrets of its own.
One night, as the rain poured down, Ethan heard a voice—a whisper—calling his name. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but the voice grew louder, more insistent. It was Clara's voice, mingled with an eerie, otherworldly tone. "Come to me, Ethan."