Chapter Fifty

The drive was suffocatingly quiet.

Celeste sat in the backseat, her fingers curled against her lap as she stared out the window. The city lights flickered past in blurs of gold and white, but her mind was too tangled to focus on them. Every thought led back to the same question, circling endlessly—how much time did she have left?

Amelia sat beside her, stiff and unyielding, her arms crossed over her chest. The tension in her jaw was visible even in the dim glow of passing streetlights. She hadn't said a word in the last ten minutes, but Celeste could feel the storm raging inside her.

Nathaniel drove with the same cool precision he always carried, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. But his grip on the steering wheel was tight. Too tight. The silence pressed in on all of them like an invisible weight.

Celeste finally broke it.

"Where are we going?"

Nathaniel exhaled but didn't take his eyes off the road. "Somewhere safe."

Amelia scoffed. "Yeah, because you've been so great at keeping us safe so far."

Nathaniel didn't rise to the bait. "I understand why you're angry, Amelia. But I need you to trust me now."

"You keep saying that," Amelia shot back, her voice sharp as glass. "But trust isn't something you just demand. You have to earn it."

Celeste could feel the weight of the tension between them, thick and suffocating. She reached for Amelia's hand without thinking, squeezing it gently. Amelia stiffened but didn't pull away.

Nathaniel sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "I should have told you the truth sooner."

Amelia let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, no kidding."

Celeste's voice was quieter, softer. "Then tell us now."

Nathaniel's hands tightened on the wheel. "I knew from the moment I saw you, Celeste." His voice was measured but heavy. "You don't belong here. Not in the way you think."

A chill crept over Celeste's skin.

"You keep saying that," Amelia snapped. "But you haven't given us a real explanation. Why? Why is this happening to her?"

Nathaniel hesitated. Celeste saw the flicker of conflict in his expression, like he was choosing his words carefully.

"I think you already know the answer," he finally said, glancing at Celeste through the rearview mirror.

Celeste's breath caught in her throat.

The paintings.

The dreams before she ever came to life.

The way Amelia's brush had brought her into existence.

"You think…" Celeste swallowed. "You think I exist because Amelia painted me."

Nathaniel didn't answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. "I think you exist because of something—" he paused, searching for the right word, "—recognized Amelia's longing and answered."

Amelia stiffened beside her. "That's ridiculous."

Nathaniel didn't argue. "Maybe. But it doesn't change what's happening now."

Celeste felt Amelia's grip on her hand tighten. "Then what do we do?"

Nathaniel took a slow breath. "First, we need to understand what's keeping you here—and what's pulling you away."

Celeste didn't like the way that sounded. "And if we can't stop it?"

Nathaniel's silence was answer enough.

Celeste's stomach twisted painfully.

Amelia's voice dropped, rough with emotion. "That's not an option."

Nathaniel didn't argue.

The car finally slowed, pulling onto a quieter street lined with brownstones. It wasn't an area Celeste recognized, but there was something… off about it. The street lights flickered as if resisting the night, and the air was heavier here, charged with something unspoken.

Nathaniel parked in front of an old building. It wasn't abandoned, but it wasn't exactly welcoming either. The windows were dark, save for a faint glow on the second floor. The sign above the door had long since faded, the lettering barely legible.

"What is this place?" Amelia asked warily.

Nathaniel killed the engine and turned to face them. "Someone who might have answers."

Celeste felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "And we're just supposed to trust that?"

Nathaniel gave her a pointed look. "Would you rather do nothing?"

Amelia clenched her jaw but didn't argue.

Celeste swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe.

Something about this place felt… wrong. Not in a dangerous way, but in the way that whispered of things she wasn't supposed to know. Things that existed just beneath the surface of reality, waiting to be uncovered.

She glanced at Amelia, searching her face for reassurance, but Amelia only looked more on edge.

Nathaniel stepped out of the car first, shutting the door behind him with a quiet finality. He walked ahead, not waiting for them.

Amelia hesitated, then reached for Celeste's hand again. "Stay close to me."

Celeste nodded.

They followed Nathaniel up the worn stone steps, their footsteps echoing against the quiet of the night.

When they reached the door, Nathaniel didn't knock.

He simply turned the handle and walked inside.