Epilogue

The village of Blackthorn Hollow was quieter than Evelyn remembered. The few remaining residents who hadn't fled years ago lived in hushed fear of the manor. Stories had been passed down over generations about its dark history, but no one dared step foot near the looming house on the hill. That was, until the morning after the storm.

Evelyn sat on a wooden bench at the edge of the Whispering Forest, her gaze fixed on the distant silhouette of the manor. Though the house was still standing, it looked different now—less imposing, almost dormant, like a beast finally put to rest. She could feel the change in the air, the absence of the weight that had once hung over the land. The curse was gone, and the spirits were free.

A breeze swept through the trees, rustling the leaves and carrying with it a faint sound—a whisper. Evelyn closed her eyes, her heart tightening. It was Lucian's voice, faint but unmistakable.

"I'll always be with you."

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. It wasn't the first time she'd heard him since that night, and she doubted it would be the last. His presence lingered in the quiet moments, a soft reminder of the connection they had shared. It wasn't enough to fill the void his absence had left, but it gave her peace.

The villagers had already begun whispering about her return. They didn't know what had happened in the manor, and Evelyn wasn't sure she wanted to tell them. The details didn't matter. What mattered was that the cycle of pain and loss had been broken. The manor, once a prison for lost souls, was now just a house. A hollow shell of what it had once been.

Evelyn stood, brushing the dirt from her jeans. The sun was beginning to set, casting the village in shades of orange and gold. She had a long drive ahead of her, but she didn't feel rushed. For the first time in years, she felt free.

As she made her way back to her car, parked on the edge of the forest, she paused and turned for one last look at the manor. It stood silent and still, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Her heart ached, but she knew she couldn't stay. Her chapter in Blackthorn Hollow was over.

"Goodbye, Lucian," she whispered, her voice carried away by the wind. "Thank you."

She climbed into her car and started the engine, the hum of it breaking the serene quiet of the countryside. As she drove away, the manor grew smaller and smaller in her rearview mirror, until it disappeared entirely behind the trees.

Months later, Evelyn found herself in a small studio apartment in the city, her life quieter but fuller than it had been in years. She had taken up painting, something she hadn't done since she was a teenager. Her canvases were filled with images of the Whispering Forest, the manor, and a dark-haired man with piercing eyes who smiled at her from across the room.

One evening, as she cleaned her brushes, she heard the faint sound of laughter—soft and fleeting, like a memory surfacing from the depths of her mind. She froze, her heart skipping a beat, but when she turned, the room was empty. Still, she smiled.

Lucian wasn't gone. Not really. He was in every brushstroke, every dream, every quiet moment when the world seemed to pause. And though the pain of losing him would never truly fade, neither would the love they had shared.

Evelyn stepped out onto her balcony, the city lights twinkling like stars below her. She leaned against the railing, the cool night air brushing against her skin. Somewhere in the distance, a faint whisper carried on the wind, warm and familiar.

"I'll always be with you."

Evelyn closed her eyes and let the words settle in her heart. She wasn't alone. Not anymore.

And with that, she turned and walked back inside, ready to face whatever came next.