Chapter 17: The Boy with the Red String:“Fate is tangled in the threads of the past, where the living must face the spirits they have disturbed to uncover the truths that bind them.”

The alley was dark, save for the faint glow of the streetlamp at the far end, casting long shadows on the cracked pavement. Meen, Pim, Tan, and Praew moved quickly, the weight of the same stolen files heavy in their backpacks. Ploy had been caught up in the prefect's meeting at school.The air was thick with tension, the quiet that surrounded them almost suffocating. Something felt wrong.

Meen tightened her grip on the file, her heart racing. "We need to get out of here. Fast."

Pim nodded in agreement, though her face was pale, her breath coming in short gasps. "Where do we go now? "

"We find him," Tan said, his voice steady despite the uncertainty in his eyes. "We find the boy with the red string."

The moment the words left his mouth, a gust of wind whipped through the alley, sending a chill down their spines. A low, unsettling sound filled the air—a distant shriek, like the wail of something lost and angry.

Pim froze. "Did you hear that? "

Tan didn't answer. His gaze was fixed ahead, narrowed in concentration. "We don't have time to stop. Keep moving."

They turned another corner, their footsteps echoing in the narrow passageway. And that's when they saw him.

The boy with the red string.

He was standing in the middle of the alley, bathed in the pale glow of the moon. His posture was rigid, his face partially obscured by the shadow of his dark hair. But there was no mistaking the red string tied around his wrist, glowing faintly like a pulse—alive.

Tan stumbled slightly, his feet faltering as he tried to regain his balance. He felt the air around them change—thick with something ancient, something otherworldly. He knew this wasn't just any boy.

"Get up," the stranger ordered, his voice low but commanding. As if the day had repeated itself all over again.

Tan hit the ground hard when they collided with him, his vision spinning from the impact. He winced but quickly pushed himself up. His legs trembled from the force of the collision, but he managed to steady himself. The boy, however, remained unaffected. He was calm, cold even, as if the chaos around him meant nothing.

"Who are you? " Pim gasped, her voice filled with confusion and disbelief.

"No time," the boy said curtly. He grabbed Pim's hand with surprising strength and yanked her forward, urging them to move. "Keep running."

Pim tried to resist, but the boy's grip was unyielding. Before they could protest further, something shrieked from behind them—an inhuman, gut-wrenching sound that made their blood run cold.

Tan's heart raced in his chest as he scrambled to his feet. His body screamed in protest from the sudden movement, but fear drove him to push forward. The alley grew darker, the shadows creeping closer. The stench of stagnant water and decay thickened the air, suffocating him.

But then, the boy stopped.

He raised his wrist in front of him, the red string glowing brighter now, pulsing with an eerie rhythm that matched the quickening beat of their hearts.

The presence that had been lurking behind them—something dark, something malevolent—seemed to recoil, retreating into the shadows. The air grew still, the shrieks fading into nothing.

For a moment, everything was silent.

Pim exhaled sharply, her breath ragged. "Who… are you? "

The boy let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing as if considering whether to answer. Finally, he turned to face them fully, revealing the sharp, angular features of his face.

"You shouldn't have taken those files," he said, his voice colder now, tinged with something that felt like regret. His voice and tone like that of Thanom.

The words hit Tan like a punch to the gut. "What? "

The boy's hand moved slowly, almost deliberately, from his wrist to his pocket. He pulled out a piece of crumpled paper—the same newspaper clipping they had found earlier, the one about Kanya's disappearance.

"That's ours," Pim said, her voice trembling. "How did you—"

The boy didn't answer. Instead, he extended his hand, revealing a second object—a file. Their file. The one they had stolen from the archives.

Tan's stomach dropped. His mind raced. The realization hit him like a wave. "You're…"

The boy nodded, his expression unreadable. "I'm Naree's brother."

A cold shiver ran down Tan's spine as the name hit him. Naree Chaiyakan. The spirit they had been tracking for weeks. The one whose name had been whispered in every corner of this cursed town.

He glanced at the others, their faces etched with shock and confusion.

"She's… your sister? " Pim asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yes," the boy said simply. He didn't elaborate, but the weight of his words was enough.

Naree Chaiyakan—the young girl whose spirit had haunted them, whose name had been tied to the mystery of Kanokwan's song and Kanya's disappearance—was his sister.

The boy's expression softened, though the hardness in his eyes remained. "I know what she's capable of. And I know what she's been doing. But you've all been meddling in things you don't understand."

"Then help us," Tan said urgently. "We didn't ask for any of this. We just wanted to find out the truth. To free our friend from the doll's curse."

Praew's heart started beating faster upon remembering that she had still not been freed from the curse.

The boy's eyes flickered with something close to pity. "The truth? " He scoffed bitterly. "The truth is that you've stumbled into a family curse. You've disturbed things that were meant to stay buried."

"Then why are you helping us? " Praew asked, her voice trembling.

The boy didn't answer right away. He glanced at the file in his hand, then at the string on his wrist. "Because Naree…" His voice faltered for a moment, and when he spoke again, there was a deep sadness in his tone. "Because Naree is trapped. Trapped in a cycle she can't escape."

He paused, his gaze distant, lost in thought. "I can stop her. But it won't be easy."

"What do you mean? " Meen asked, her voice steady despite the uncertainty that gripped her heart.

The boy finally met their gaze, his expression grim. "The red string you see on my wrist—it's not just a symbol. It's a tether, a connection. It binds me to her, to her spirit. I am the only one who can sever that connection."

"But if you're the only one who can stop her, why hasn't she…? " Tan started to ask but stopped when he saw the pain flicker in the boy's eyes.

"I've been trying," the boy said quietly. "For years. But the string—" He looked down at his wrist. "It's pulling me back. I can't break it without causing something worse to happen."

The tension in the air thickened. The boy's words hung heavily between them, like an unspoken threat.

"Then what do we do? " Pim asked. "How do we stop her? "

The boy's expression turned resolute. "We have to confront her. Face her. If we don't, she will never be free."

Tan's stomach twisted. "And if we fail? "

"Then Naree will keep searching for the one thing that will set her free," the boy said, his voice dark. "And that thing…" He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Is the truth."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

For the first time, Tan felt the weight of everything they had uncovered pressing down on him. The mystery, the spirits, the files—all of it had led them here. And now, they were standing on the edge of something much larger than they could have imagined.

He glanced at the boy, the one who was tied to the very spirit they had been chasing. And in that moment, he realized that they weren't just fighting for the truth—they were fighting to break a curse that had lasted for generations.

They were fighting to free a soul.

And to survive the consequences.

The red string pulsed between them, a silent promise and a warning, as the shadows of the past closed in around them.