Chapter 19: Threads of the Past; “Not all spirits seek vengeance—some only wish to be heard.”

The cold air wrapped around them like the embrace of something unseen, something reaching from the past. Meen, Pim, Tan, Ploy, and Praew stood in the deserted music room, their breaths shallow as mist curled from their lips. The ghostly melody of Kanokwan's unfinished song still echoed in their ears, lingering like a whisper refusing to be silenced. They had solved Naree Chaiyakan's mystery, severing her brother Chawin Phattharawut's red string, yet the curse still coiled around the school like an unshaken shadow. The air felt heavier, pressing down on their chests, suffocating.

"What now? " Tan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "We freed Naree, but Kanya…"

A sharp gust of wind rattled the old windows. A distant, chilling laugh—Kanya's laugh—slithered into their ears, sending a shiver up Pim's spine. The air turned cold all of a sudden making them shiver although they had to persevere because they still had an unaccomplished mission.

"She's not done with us," Praew murmured, gripping her arms as if warding off the unseen. "She won't stop until she gets her revenge."

Chawin stepped forward, his face grim. "There's still something missing. Something holding her here."

The group turned to the one person they hadn't completely figured out yet—Saksit Rattanakorn, the new teacher. He had been watching from the doorway, his expression unreadable, a shadow behind his eyes. It was as if he knew something but kept quiet, they just didn't know whether it was a silence on purpose or just a simple silence of him not knowing anything. But Meen didn't but that, unless why would he accompany them? She quizzed herself.

"You know something," Meen said, stepping closer. "Don't you? "

Saksit sighed, the weight of years settling into his voice. "I know more than I ever wanted to."

Meen smiler slightly, of course she had knew that something felt off.

---

Saksit led them through the abandoned corridors, his footsteps eerily silent against the cracked tiles. The school felt more like a mausoleum than a place of learning, each classroom holding echoes of the past, memories trapped like insects in amber. Which they still hadn't uncovered. But yo the outside world —a beautiful place— because who would've known? They just simply judged the book by it's cover, yet, that book seemed to hold more than simple writings but cryptic messages hidden by use of colorful colours and beautiful design, like a beautiful gilded cage that imprisons a bird not to fly away or say anything to the outside world. It seemed like a cage that held too much that it seemed that it would blow up the next second, but nothing happened, almost like something behind the scenes was holding everything together— a missing puzzle piece to the whole story.

"I knew Kanya," he admitted. "Not just as a student in the records, but personally. She was my younger sister."

The revelation stunned them into silence. Praew was stunned. Hadn't everyone migrated including Kanokwan? Turns out they still had so much more to learn.

"She never told anyone, but she was scared," Saksit continued, his voice hollow. "There was something—someone—that tormented her. But before she could tell me everything, she died."

Praew's eyes widened. "Then… Kanya wasn't just a victim of the curse? "

Saksit shook his head, his knuckles whitening. "No. She was a victim of something else entirely."

Before he could explain further, the walls trembled. A loud, echoing thud reverberated through the hallway. The door behind them slammed shut. The temperature plummeted, and their breaths turned to frost in the air.

"She's here," Chawin murmured.

---

A ghostly figure materialized before them—Kanya. Her long, matted hair swayed as if caught in an invisible current. Her dark eyes bore into them, filled with sorrow and unrelenting rage.

"You think freeing one spirit was enough? " her voice echoed, a blend of agony and resentment. "You still haven't listened to me."

Saksit stepped forward. "Kanya, I'm here."

Her gaze snapped to him, and for a fleeting moment, something softened in her expression. Then, just as quickly, the anger returned. This made the group exchange knowing glakves as if they now trusted Saksit as someone to help them.

"You left me," she whispered, her voice cracking like shattered glass. "You let them hurt me."

Saksit's face paled. "Who hurt you? "

But Kanya only laughed—a broken, hollow sound. The room darkened, and symbols etched themselves onto the walls, glowing ominously. The same symbols that had appeared in the classrooms.

"They weren't just warnings," Ploy realized. "They were messages."

Tan squinted. "Then why do they look like…"

"Music notes," Meen finished, realization dawning. "Kanokwan's song. It's all connected."

Kanya's form flickered, her expression twisted in pain. "Finish it."

With no other choice, they began to sing the forgotten notes scrawled across the walls. The melody wove itself into the air, reverberating with something ancient and powerful.

At first, nothing happened.

Then the walls screamed.

A gust of wind surged forward, and Kanya let out a cry of agony. The symbols burned brighter, the unfinished song unraveling something unseen. And then—

---

Images flashed before them—Kanya crying in a dimly lit classroom, a shadowy figure looming over her, the reflection of a sharp object in her tear-filled eyes.

Then, a voice. "You should have stayed quiet."

The scene shifted. Kanya lying motionless. The shadow disappearing. Silence.

"She was murdered," Chawin whispered. "Just like Naree."

The melody swelled, reaching its final note. Kanya's spirit trembled, her form fading, her anger giving way to sorrow. "I just… I wanted justice."

Saksit stepped closer. "I swear to you, we will find who did this."

For the first time, tears welled in Kanya's spectral eyes. And as the last note of the song faded into the night, so did she.

---

The curse was broken. But the mystery was far from over.

Because now, they had a murderer to find.

---

And then, something impossible happened. As they left the room...

Chawin stood frozen in the dimly lit school hallway, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the girl before him. Nattaya Suthirak—his younger sister, lost to time, stolen from their family under mysterious circumstances—stood just a few feet away. But something about her was… wrong.

Her face was unchanged, eerily identical to the way it had been all those years ago. Not a single wrinkle of time marred her smooth skin. Her jet-black hair, still falling in soft waves past her shoulders, was the same as he had last seen it. The school uniform she wore was pristine, yet outdated—an older style that had been discontinued for over a decade.