CHAPTER 17

Chapter Seventeen

The Water Remembers

Three days passed.

The Mirror Core remained sealed.

Amelia hadn't returned to it once—not because she was afraid, but because she was waiting. Watching.

The lake was no longer quiet.

Small things had started happening.

Animals wouldn't go near it. The surface didn't ripple even when wind passed over it. At night, the moon reflected in it—but not the trees, not the stars, and not people.

And worse—Amelia had started hearing it.

"Come back."

In the silence of her room.

"You broke the mirror..."

While brushing her teeth.

"But you didn't break the truth."

It never shouted. Never growled.

It whispered.

Like something waiting just beneath the surface of her thoughts.

⸻

Edward had been quiet too.

He'd noticed her growing distant, but said nothing. Every time he looked at her, it was with this strange, unreadable expression—like he knew something, but couldn't bring himself to say it.

Finally, on the third evening, after dinner, he sat across from her at the kitchen table. The lights flickered once. And he cleared his throat.

"Amelia," he said. "Do you remember anything... about your mother lately?"

She froze.

The fork slipped from her fingers and hit the plate with a soft clink.

"I've been seeing her," Amelia whispered. "In the mirror. Sometimes in dreams. She's alive, isn't she?"

Edward didn't flinch. But his eyes... did.

"Yes."

The word landed like a stone.

"I thought she was dead," Amelia said, voice shaking. "You told me she was."

"I told you what I thought you could handle."

Amelia stood. "That's not your choice."

"She made me promise!" he snapped, louder than he meant to. Then his hands covered his face. "She made me promise not to tell you anything unless the lake chose you. Unless it started to pull."

Silence hung between them. The wind outside howled softly through the trees.

"Pull what?" she asked.

Edward looked up. His eyes weren't angry—they were full of fear.

"Your blood, Amelia," he said. "It's not just human. And the lake... the lake is part of her. Of you. She didn't leave us. She went back to where she came from."

A cold chill crept up Amelia's spine.

"She's in the lake?"

"No," Edward said softly. "She is the lake."

⸻

That night, Amelia stood at the water's edge.

The lake was glowing faintly, the soft pulse of light rippling outward like a heartbeat. The reflection showed the moon above—and her mother's face beneath.

Elvira smiled at her.

But it wasn't a warm smile.

It was a beckoning one.

And behind her... shadows moved.

The lake remembered everything.

And now, it wanted its daughter back.

Amelia stepped closer to the water's edge, her shoes sinking slightly into the damp earth. The glow beneath the lake intensified, casting a soft, haunting shimmer on her face.

"Elvira," she whispered.

The reflection blinked slowly. Not like a ghost. Not like a memory.

Like a mother.

"You're not just showing me visions," Amelia said, her voice steady despite the weight in her chest. "You're in there. Alive."

The water shimmered in answer, and Elvira's lips parted in the reflection—though Amelia heard no words, only felt something stirring inside her.

Behind her, the air shifted. Twigs snapped.

Kaia appeared out of the darkness, breathless. "I knew you'd come back here."

Amelia didn't turn around. "She's not dead."

Kaia was silent for a long beat. "You saw her again."

"Clearer than ever." Amelia's hand hovered just inches above the lake's surface. "She's not just in the water. She's part of it. Dad said she became it."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Neither does anything else anymore."

Kaia stepped closer, squinting into the reflection. Elvira had disappeared. Only the moon remained—though its shape seemed wrong. Bent. Distorted.

Kaia glanced at Amelia. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I'm scared," Amelia whispered. "Because if she is the lake, and I came from her... what does that make me?"

Kaia opened her mouth to speak—but the water moved.

A ripple.

Then another.

And then—a hand broke the surface.

But it wasn't reaching out.

It was reaching up, like someone drowning beneath glass.

Amelia stumbled back.

Kaia gasped, drawing the small dagger she always carried.

Then the hand vanished, sucked beneath as though it had never been there.

"Did you see that?" Amelia said breathlessly.

Kaia nodded, pale.

A soft hum rose from the water. Then a whisper.

Come deeper.

They both heard it this time.

"Okay," Kaia said, voice tight. "Time to go."

But Amelia didn't move.

She stared at the lake, her fingers brushing the pendant around her neck—Elvira's. She never took it off.

And it was glowing.

"I think I'm connected to her," she said slowly. "I think... I can talk to her. Really talk to her. But not here."

Kaia's eyes widened. "No. Don't say it."

Amelia turned to her, face pale but calm. "I need to go into the lake."

"Amelia, that's—no. That's insane. You don't know what's in there."

"I don't," Amelia agreed. "But she does. And if I'm going to stop whatever's coming next... I need answers."

The water lapped at her feet.

The lake had awakened.

And it was no longer content to whisper from beneath the surface.