Daniel sat unmoving, his body wracked with violent tremors. The room felt colder, heavier, pressing down on him like an invisible weight.
Then—
Creeeak.
The sound sent a jolt through his already frayed nerves. It came from the nursery. He knew it did.
But he didn't move.
He stayed curled in his corner, trying to will himself into nothingness.
Creeeak.
This time, his body betrayed him. His muscles tensed, then moved—involuntarily. His mind screamed to stop, but his legs carried him forward, step by agonizing step, until he found himself standing in front of the nursery door.
It was wide open.
The air inside was thick, suffocating. The faint scent of lavender lingered—the same scent Emily used to love.
And then he saw her.
Someone sat in the dim light, long dark hair cascading down her shoulders.
His breath hitched. His pulse thundered in his ears.
She turned.
His stomach plummeted.
Emily.
No.
Emily.
Her eyes were swollen, red, like she had been crying for hours.
No. No, no, no, no.
Daniel's chest constricted, his mind a battlefield of contradictions. His thoughts waged war against each other.
Emily is dead.
But her body was never found.
She's not dead.
This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
Or—
What if it was?
What if she was alive?
Daniel's fists clenched, his body locked in place as he stared at her—at Emily.
Sitting in the nursery, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her tear-streaked face glowing under the dim light.
His heart pounded in his chest, a war raging in his mind.
This isn't real.
But what if it is?
His throat was dry when he finally spoke.
"Where have you been?"
Emily lifted her swollen eyes, watching him carefully.
"I was always here," she whispered.
A cold chill swept through his spine.
"No," Daniel rasped. "No, that's not possible." His voice shook with barely contained anger. "You left. You died. Emily, we buried you."
She flinched but didn't look away. "Did you?"
Daniel's breath caught in his throat.
Her body… it had never been found. The funeral had been symbolic—a casket filled with nothing but memories and grief.
His pulse thundered.
"Stop," he whispered. "Just… stop."
Emily slowly stood, her movements deliberate, her gaze never leaving his.
"Why are you so scared of me?" she asked softly.
Daniel swallowed. His hands trembled at his sides.
"I don't know what's happening," he admitted.
Emily's lips parted, her expression shifting—pain, regret, something deeper.
"I never wanted to leave you," she murmured.
Daniel let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it. "But you did."
Her fingers curled into fists. "Not by choice."
His jaw clenched. "Then where the hell have you been?!"
She opened her mouth, hesitated. Then, stepping closer, she reached out and cupped his face.
Her hands were warm.
Daniel stiffened.
She was solid. Real.
He could feel the warmth of her skin, the familiar touch that had once grounded him, the fingers that had once traced his jaw in the dead of night.
His mind screamed in protest, but his body—his body remembered her.
"You're not real," he whispered, his breath uneven.
Emily smiled, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Then why can you feel me?"
Daniel gasped.
His head spun, his thoughts fracturing, his entire existence crumbling beneath the weight of her presence.
"Come here," she whispered.
He shook his head, stepping back. "No."
"Daniel."
She moved forward.
He stumbled, his back hitting the wall.
"Why are you running?" she asked, voice breaking.
His chest rose and fell erratically. "Because I don't know what's real anymore."
Emily's face crumpled. She took a deep, shuddering breath.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Then she turned—
And ran.
The nursery door slammed shut behind her.
Daniel didn't move.
Couldn't move.
His breaths came in short gasps as his mind whirled.
Then—
Creeeak.
The nursery door.
Slowly… agonizingly… it opened again.
Daniel's body locked up.
He heard the soft shuffle of movement, but he couldn't bring himself to look.
Not until—
A whisper.
Right beside his ear.
"I never left."
The breath of it, the warmth of it, sent ice through his veins.
Daniel's vision swam.
Then—
Darkness.
"Daniel."
A voice.
Loud. Insistent.
Hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him hard.
"Daniel, wake up!"
His eyes snapped open.
Dale and Lenny hovered over him, their faces etched with worry.
His breath was ragged, his body drenched in sweat.
His hands trembled as he sat up, struggling to make sense of it.
It was a dream.
Had to be a dream.
But then—
His fingers brushed against something soft.
Daniel froze.
Lifting his hand, his breath caught in his throat.
Strands of dark hair curled around his fingers.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
It wasn't his.
It wasn't Dale's. It wasn't Lenny's.
Emily's hair.
His stomach twisted.
Dale and Lenny exchanged glances, concern deepening in their eyes as Daniel sat there, staring at the strands of dark hair twisted around his fingers. His chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, his pulse thundering in his ears.
"Daniel," Lenny said carefully, "you're scaring me, man."
Daniel didn't respond. He couldn't. His mind was still in that nursery, still feeling the warmth of Emily's fingers against his skin, still hearing that whisper—
I never left.
His stomach lurched.
"Daniel," Dale pressed, shaking his shoulder again, "what the hell happened?"
Daniel swallowed, his throat dry, his body cold.
"I saw her," he finally whispered.
Silence.
Dale and Lenny stiffened, their expressions shifting into something unreadable.
"You—" Lenny hesitated. "You mean—?"
Daniel's grip tightened around the strands of hair. "She was here. In my house. In the nursery. She spoke to me." His voice shook. "She touched me."
Dale inhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "Daniel—"
"I felt her," Daniel snapped, his voice raw. "She wasn't a hallucination. She wasn't just in my head. She was real."
His breath hitched.
Lenny glanced at Dale, uneasy. "Maybe… maybe you were dreaming?"
Daniel shook his head violently. "Then explain this." He held up the strands of dark hair.
They both stared.
Dale paled. "Daniel…"
"I need to know," Daniel said, voice low, eyes burning. "I need to know if I'm losing my mind or if Emily—" He cut off, pressing a trembling hand to his forehead. "If Emily's really alive."
Lenny exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Alright. Say she was here. Say you weren't imagining things. Where did she go?"
Daniel's jaw clenched. He didn't know.
One second, she had been in front of him, talking to him. The next, she had run. The door had slammed. The nursery had creaked open again—
And then…
That whisper.
That breath against his ear.
A violent shiver crawled up his spine.
He had passed out after that. Hadn't he?
Or—
Had something else happened?
Dale sighed, kneeling in front of him. "Daniel, listen to me. I don't know what's happening to you, man, but you're spiraling. Maybe we should—"
"No." Daniel's voice was hoarse but firm. "I'm not crazy."
He stood abruptly, wavering slightly before gripping the bedpost for support.
"I need to find her."
Dale and Lenny gawked at him.
"What?" Lenny sputtered.
Daniel turned to them, eyes dark, resolute.
"I need to find Emily." His grip tightened. "Because if she's alive—"
He swallowed.
"Then I need to know why she left me."
And more than that—
Why she came back.