ECHOES DON'T LIE

The bus ride back into the city was long and quiet. Lilith sat in the farthest seat, the notebook clutched in her lap like it could anchor her to reality.

But reality was the thing slipping.

The image of Lena standing in the mist wouldn't leave her.

The smile. The whisper. The feeling that this ,all of this ; was just the beginning of something worse.

She replayed every moment in the camp over and over, hoping the cracks in her memory would suddenly flood open.

But her mind stayed locked.

And that terrified her more than anything.

Back home, the apartment was dark.

Mom had left a message on the fridge: "Work shift extended. There's food in the oven. Love you."

Lilith didn't eat.

She went straight to her room, closed the door, and locked it.

Then she opened the notebook again.

There was something strange about the last page. Unlike the others, it was torn halfway through like someone had ripped out whatever came next. But faintly, at the bottom of the torn edge, in shaky handwriting, was a single sentence:

"Ask Mr. Haynes what he saw."

Lilith's blood ran cold.

Mr. Haynes.

Her old middle school art teacher.

The one with the limp. The one who always smelled like turpentine and kept too many secrets in his eyes.

The one who, she now realized, used to run the camp during summers.

Why didn't she remember that until now?

She didn't wait.

By the next day, she was standing outside the gate of his crumbling house at the edge of town. The garden was overgrown. Curtains drawn. Silence.

She hesitated , something about the air felt heavier here.

Like it remembered things she had forgotten.

She rang the bell.

No answer.

She knocked.

Still nothing.

She was about to turn and leave when the door creaked open an inch. A pale eye peeked out. Then a voice,rough and suspicious.

"Who's asking?"

Lilith swallowed. "It's me. Lilith… Adu...I mean, just Lilith. From school. You knew me. Years ago."

A long pause.

Then the door opened fully.

And Mr. Haynes looked like he'd aged ten years since she last saw him.

"I hoped I'd never see you again," he muttered.

Inside, the house smelled like dust and oil paint.

He didn't offer her a seat. He just limped to the window, pulled back the curtain a little, and stared out like he was watching for something.

Or someone.

"You came about the girl, didn't you?"

Lilith's voice caught in her throat. "Lena."

He nodded. "I thought so."

"Who was she?" she asked. "Why can't I remember? What happened that summer?"

Mr. Haynes didn't turn around.

"You want answers, Lilith, but you don't understand what you're asking. That summer... something unnatural happened. Something I still don't speak of. Not because I want to forget, but because remembering makes it real again."

Lilith stepped closer. "She said I left her. That I held her hand when it happened. What happened, Mr. Haynes?"

The old man finally turned.

His face was pale. His eyes distant.

"You both disappeared for three days. Then you came back alone. No one could find Lena. The lake was searched. The woods combed. Everyone gave up."

"But you…" he pointed at her, hand trembling, "you had scratches all over you. You were shaking. You kept saying the same thing over and over…"

Lilith's breath caught. "What did I say?"

"She's still down there."

Silence filled the room.

Lilith staggered back like the air had been punched from her lungs. "That's not possible…"

Mr. Haynes nodded slowly. "Maybe it isn't. But that's what you said. And I believe you. Because the night before you came back..." he looked her dead in the eyes, "I saw her."

Lilith's voice was barely a whisper. "Lena?"

"No. Something wearing her face. Standing on the dock. Smiling. Waiting."

He lowered his voice to a trembling whisper.

"You didn't leave her. She never left you."

Outside, the wind picked up, rustling the trees.

Inside, Lilith stared at the notebook again, the pages now feeling heavier in her hands. The pieces were falling together, and it felt like being pulled into a spiral.

Lena wasn't just a memory.

She wasn't just a ghost.

She was something else.

Something that hadn't finished telling her story.

And Lilith wasn't just the witness…

She was the reason it all began.