It's one thing to remember the past. It's another thing to be hunted by it.
The photo burned on her screen.
Ava stared at it, unable to breathe.
It was her. Isabella.
Standing in the exact masquerade dress from her dream.
But it wasn't just the dress that chilled her it was the background.
Because behind her past self was a mirror.
And in the mirror's reflection… Ava saw herself. Now.
Same face. Same eyes. But the reflection looked older, colder… haunted.
She dropped the phone.
Liam picked it up, his expression tightening as he examined the image.
"This was taken… today?"
She nodded.
"I wore that dress last night," she whispered. "In the dream. And now it's here. It's real."
Liam turned the phone toward the light. "Look there's a location tag buried in the metadata."
Ava leaned in.
Rosewood Hotel. Room 908.
"I know that place," she said slowly. "That's the hotel Vincent used for his secret meetings."
Liam grabbed his jacket. "Then we go now."
Rosewood Hotel — Room 908
The elevator hummed like a heartbeat, rising floor by floor.
Ava's hands shook as she clutched Liam's arm. When the doors opened, the hallway was silent thick with tension.
They reached Room 908.
The door was slightly ajar.
Liam raised his hand to knock but Ava pushed it open with trembling fingers.
The room was dark.
Candles flickered on every surface, casting long, dancing shadows.
And in the center of the room…
…was the masquerade dress, laid out on the bed like a corpse.
Perfect. Pressed. Untouched.
And beside it an envelope with Ava's name written in crimson ink.
She opened it slowly.
One line. In Celeste's cursive.
"Try it on, darling. You were always meant to wear the mask."
Suddenly, a soft click echoed behind them.
They turned.
A figure stood in the corner face obscured by a long, black veil.
She didn't move. Didn't speak.
Just watched.
Liam stepped in front of Ava. "Who are you?"
The figure lifted a hand and pointed at Ava's chest straight at her heart.
Then… vanished.
No door opened.
No window moved.
She simply disappeared, as if she'd never been real.
Ava's pulse thundered.
"I think," she whispered, voice cracking, "we're not just remembering anymore."
"We're being pulled back in."