A Voice Behind the Door
Death was only the beginning. The real horror is remembering it.
Ava stood trembling, staring at the blood-written message on the mirror.
"Do you remember dying now?"
The crimson letters dripped slowly, like they were still fresh.
Liam wiped a hand across the mirror but the writing didn't smear.
"It's not blood," he murmured. "It's something else. Something meant to stay."
Ava clutched her chest, feeling the echo of that old wound the one above her heart that had no scar. Not in this life. But her soul remembered it.
"I need to know who left that dress," she said, voice steady but cold.
Liam nodded. "Let's check the security cameras.
Ten minutes later — Hotel Surveillance Office
The grainy footage showed a woman entering Room 908 just after midnight.
Long dark coat. Hood up.
But when she turned to look directly into the hallway camera Ava felt her blood run cold.
Because she knew that face.
She just didn't know why.
Not Celeste. Not a stranger either.
It was someone from the present.
Someone close.
Her assistant Maya.
Sweet, quiet, dependable Maya.
The girl who had brought her coffee every morning.
The girl who once said, "You feel familiar, like a story I've read before."
The camera feed cut off just as Maya looked directly into it and smiled.
Like she wanted to be seen.
Later — Ava's Apartment
Ava sat in silence while Liam paced the room.
"She could be working with Celeste," he said. "Planted to get close to you."
"Or…" Ava whispered, "…she's someone from my past life too."
"What do you mean?"
"What if she was there the night I died? Not as an enemy. But as a witness."
Liam frowned. "But why play games now?"
"Because someone doesn't want me to remember everything yet," she said. "They want to control the order."
She stood suddenly.
"I need to talk to her."
That Night — Outside Maya's Apartment
Rain slicked the streets.
Ava approached the building, dress hidden beneath a trench coat. Liam waited in the car.
She knocked.
No answer.
She knocked again.
Then slowly… the door creaked open.
The lights were off.
A candle flickered at the end of the hall.
And written on the wall above it in the same crimson ink:
"You died once for love. Will you die again for truth?"
Then a creak behind her.
A whisper against her ear.
"Welcome back, Isabella."